


where souls brimful of love abide and meet

by kyleworthington (lairdofthelochs)



Series: 'and time yet for a hundred indecisions' verse [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: First Meetings, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 36,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3243134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lairdofthelochs/pseuds/kyleworthington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Park Chanyeol met Do Kyungsoo, fought a lot, became friends, fell in love, and got married. Prequel to 'and time yet for a hundred indecisions'. A domestic AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. part i

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [and time yet for a hundred indecisions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581788) by [kyleworthington (lairdofthelochs)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lairdofthelochs/pseuds/kyleworthington). 



Three a.m.

Kyungsoo once read that three a.m. is too late or too early for anything that he wants to do. Kyungsoo believes this to be true, and hasn’t really given it much thought. In time, Kyungsoo will learn this to be false. In fact,  _three a.m._  is when a part of his life ends and a new one begins.

Three a.m. is when he receives that phone call from Jongin, and he only happens to pick it up because he’s still awake, pondering over the tiny details in the first draft of his Masters thesis. It’s three a.m. on a Saturday morning and he learns that Jongin is at the Emergency Department, together with two other mates – who happen to be inebriated  _and_  injured.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes – because he knows what Jongin is  _actually_  asking when all he has done was merely stating the facts – he wants Kyungsoo to pick them up, because a) there are no buses at this time of the night, and b) the taxi fare is far too expensive for the money they have left in their pockets.

He could have said no, but he doesn’t. So Kyungsoo huffs and picks up his car keys, making his way to the hospital like the good friend that he always is.*

*He’s not.

\--

Kyungsoo can’t remember the last time he is here – but the generics are still the same, even if some details are different. The smell of piss and alcohol mingled with medicines and detergent, and for three a.m. the ED is  _packed_. Doctors and nurses running around in scrubs while patients lying helplessly on trolleys outwith their cubicles waiting to be transferred to their respective wards.

He asks around and only after five minutes he finds Jongin in the corner, who appears dishevelled but unsurprisingly is the most presentable out of the three guys in front of Kyungsoo. The real casualty is a man Kyungsoo has never laid eyes on, lying on the trolley while Baekhyun leans against the railings. The stranger has a bandage over his forehead, at the base of his skull and the side of his neck. There are a couple more cuts and bruises on his face and on his knuckles. His left eye is purple. It won’t look nice tomorrow.

“You guys have been involved in a brawl,” Kyungsoo says. Unimpressed.

“We were trying to defend the honour of a woman,” Baekhyun pips in, “—and then it got ugly,” he explains.

“Spare me the details,” Kyungsoo says, and indicates to them that they should get going. “Can he even walk?” he asks, looking at the tall, gangly and battered stranger. “Who is he, even?”

“Kyungsoo, meet Chanyeol. Chanyeol, meet Kyungsoo,” Jongin says promptly. “He’s Baekhyun’s friend.”

Chanyeol winces and tries to open his uninjured eye, but all he manages is a pathetic wink. He raises his arm in an attempt to wave at Kyungsoo, before he tries to sit up straight on the trolley. He dangles both legs off the trolley in an effort to stand, but it’s clear that his feet are still wobbly.

“Are you sure that he’s actually safe to be discharged?” Kyungsoo asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. The smell of alcohol is strong on the three of them, but more so on Chanyeol, exacerbated by his movements.

“Doctor’s orders,” Baekhyun says, holding a printed letter and a bag of medications. “We’ve been sitting here dialling everyone we know to get picked up. Thank God  _you_  came.”

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes. “You owe me one. You guys are lucky I’m still awake,” he hisses. There is only silence as they make their way out of the austere, bright surroundings of the hospital, into the cold damp night air of October. Chanyeol is limping against Baekhyun. “Remind me to charge you for the parking fees too,” Kyungsoo adds. “Do you have any clue how expensive it is on the weekends?”

\--

The smell of alcohol pervades the entire interior of Kyungsoo’s car, and he scrunches his nose. It’s all he could do in an effort to not get nauseated. “Shall I drop you guys at your house, Baekhyun?” Kyungsoo asks, and Baekhyun merely nods. It would have been a short, sweet ride given the lack of traffic, but it would become one of the worst car pools of Kyungsoo’s life. About five hundred metres left before the right turn into Baekhyun’s street, someone retches at the back of Kyungsoo’s car.

_Chanyeol._

“Eww, you just puked on my shoes!” Baekhyun shrieks maniacally.

 _Baekhyun shoes is one thing. This is my fucking car,_  Kyungsoo thinks.

He has never braked so hard in his life, that he’s sure the tyres would have left skidmarks on the tarmac. The pungent smell of vomit now overtakes the stink of alcohol, and Kyungsoo grips the steering firmly until his knuckles turn white.

“Out, all of you,” he says with a deep voice. Calm. Without even raising a tone. “Now.”

“But—,” Baekhyun tries to plead, before Kyungsoo cuts him off.

“No. You know your way home from here, don’t you? So out you go _. Now.”_

“Come on, Kyungsoo,” Jongin rationalizes on Baekhyun’s behalf. “At least drive to Baekhyun’s house so that we could help you clean your car. You don’t want this stink to stick in your car until you get home. At least let us help you clean it a bit.  _Please.”_

For a drunken man with a slurred speech Jongin does have a case, so Kyungsoo sighs and decides to drive on until he reaches his destination.

\--

For some reason he ends up sleeping at Baekhyun’s house, because he hasn’t realized how tired he is until his head hits the pillow. Like some kind of a drunken boys sleepover party, despite the amount of work he has to do at home. He’s been too angry and tired to even drive home, and he crashes on the sofa of Baekhyun’s living room. He wakes up the next morning only to discover Chanyeol sleeping soundly on the sofa opposite, while Baekhyun and Jongin snoring softly on the floor.

The first thing Kyungsoo does is to tiptoe outside and examine his car – despite the boys’ ‘thorough’ cleaning with tap water and ‘detergent’ last night, the smell is still vile. He feels like punching someone in the face, preferably Chanyeol on his uninjured right eye, but he ends up balling his fists and grits his teeth in order not to scream and wake the entire neighbourhood on a quiet Saturday morning. In daylight, Kyungsoo could see a damp, dark patch from where Chanyeol’s vomit has seeped through the seat. ‘This is what I get for helping out,’ he thinks, and drives away furiously without even waking the rest. He has to keep all the windows down throughout the journey to prevent himself from being suffocated by the horrid smell, until he eventually finds a carwash garage.

He reminds himself that Chanyeol – or whatever his name is – will have to pay for the cleaning cost.

\--

Kyungsoo goes AWOL for a week after the incident, ignoring texts from Baekhyun and Jongin. He has got better things to worry about – his research, for instance. On Sunday morning he gets three phone calls from an anonymous number – which he duly and cleverly ignores. A minute after that, he gets a text message from Baekhyun saying that he has given Kyungsoo’s number to Chanyeol, and it doesn’t take much to put two and two together. Another phone call which he assumes is from Chanyeol; a text message from the same number saying ‘Hi Kyungsoo! This is Chanyeol. I’m so sorry for throwing up in your car, what can I do to say I’m sorry?’ – and a tiny part of Kyungsoo still contemplates whether to reply or not, when he hears his doorbell ring.

He is aghast to see a showered and sober Chanyeol on the screen, standing at his doorstep, with a guitar case slung over his shoulder.

“What do you want?” Kyungsoo asks through the answering door phone.

“I came to say sorry,” came Chanyeol’s reply. His voice sounds clearer, speech less slurred.

“How did you even know my address?” Kyungsoo huffs.

“Baekhyun told me.”

_Damnit, Baekhyun._

Chanyeol pouts. “Is this really a bad time right now?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.”

“I just want to make it up to you. Let me make it up to you. Let me wash your car.”

“I’ve  _already_  washed my car.”

“Let me wash your car.  _Again_ ,” Chanyeol pleads. “Let me hand-wash your car,” he corrects himself. “For a week. Or – for as long as it takes until you forgive me.”

_Rash, but the offer sounds enticing._

“And also let me buy you coffee. Or tea. Or breakfast. Please. For the damages,” Chanyeol adds.

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes, before his stance softens.“You’ll also have to pay one-third of the hospital parking fees, and the full fee of the carwash.”

“That too,” Chanyeol nods excitedly. As if he genuinely wants to do it.

“And promise that you will not puke in my car again,” Kyungsoo says sternly.

“I  _swear._ ”

Kyungsoo sighs.

He is not usually fond of strangers. In fact Kyungsoo tries to avoid them, unless absolutely necessary – like at work, for instance. But it is difficult to shoo this particular stranger away, not when he is making silly, pouty, puppy-eyed faces.  _‘What does he think I am,_ ’ Kyungsoo thinks.  _‘His girlfriend?’_

And then, another message beeps on Kyungsoo’s phone. Baekhyun. ‘Is he there yet? I had to send Chanyeol your way, he won’t stop bugging me for your address. He insists on saying sorry in person.’

_Too late, Baekhyun._

Kyungsoo ignores the message and buzzes Chanyeol in, and it is only when Chanyeol appears at his door that Kyungsoo realizes how tall the other man is. The last time he saw Chanyeol, the guy had been slouching, walking with a wide-stance gait just to avoid from falling over.  Now, he towers over Kyungsoo at the doorframe, but not in an intimidating kind of way. The bruises on his face have healed, but he still wears the bandage at the side of his neck.

“Stitches out in a week,” he says when he notices Kyungsoo’s eyes flicker towards his neck. “Let me introduce myself properly,” he holds out his hand. “My name is Park Chanyeol.”

Kyungsoo stares at Chanyeol’s hand warily. “Do Kyungsoo,” he finally gives in, when Chanyeol doesn’t seem to want to pull his hand away.

“So when do we start?” Chanyeol grins.

Kyungsoo’s grumbling stomach noises gives the answer.

_Damn you, stomach._

Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo knowingly. “I’ll take you out for breakfast,” he says.

\--

At breakfast, in a quiet café just across from where Kyungsoo lives, he is seated facing this constantly-smiling and forever-charming man (although Kyungsoo knows better, since he has seen Chanyeol at his worst).  Kyungsoo wonders what sin has he done in his past life to deserve this, because he is the last person to do impromptu social brunches, much less with a person he barely knows.

For the sake of conversation, he asks Chanyeol how he knows Baekhyun, and Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo that he has always been Baekhyun’s childhood friend – long lost, he explains, since his parents move quite often around Korea, and only now he is back in Seoul. Maybe it’s for the best, then, that Baekhyun has never introduced Chanyeol to Kyungsoo, because God knows that surviving Baekhyun alone is a triumph.

But Baekhyun and Chanyeol? It’s a whole entire mountain to climb, with their obstinate and overt exuberance – a stark contrast to Kyungsoo’s simple life.

“You’re perfect for each other,” Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol, and he means it in the nicest way possible. Even if some might find the comment laced with sarcasm.

Sarcasm, it seems, flies right above Chanyeol’s head. Given his bad boy persona, with the bruises and bandages and cuts on his face, he doesn’t seem to have aged past five years old, judging from his wide-eyed innocence and wonderment at the world. He starts talking about the brawl at the club, about how a group of men has tried to harass a girl, and Baekhyun was the one who suggested (verbally) that they should intervene. Chanyeol, being the more inebriated and disinhibited, ended up being the one who physically threw the first blow.

“I think Baekhyun might have gotten the girl’s number, after what happened. I assure you that courting her wasn’t his foremost intention, but I think they’re starting to text each other now.”

“Hm. How chivalrous,” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow as he sips on his chai latte. “And what’s in it for you?”

“I was just helping out a friend. Baekhyun would do the same for me.”

 _Loyal,_  Kyungsoo thinks.  _Loyal but rash._

Later, Kyungsoo learns that Chanyeol works as a waiter at his mother’s restaurant, but dreams of making it big as a freestyling rapper. He names a few inspirations – all of whom Kyungsoo has never really heard of before, and Chanyeol isn’t surprised. “They’re really huge in the underground circles,” he explains enthusiastically.

Kyungsoo listens to Chanyeol’s stories, transfixed. He doesn’t even realize that they have spent at least an hour in the café just exchanging banters, but mostly Kyungsoo listening to Chanyeol recounting his experience as a ‘struggling rapper’, as he puts it. A part of Kyungsoo could imagine that Chanyeol with his deep voice, his wit, and his outward appearance, with the snapbacks and statement t-shirts – he does fit what one might perceive as a rapper stereotype.

But the rest of him; his gawkiness, his naivety – Kyungsoo couldn’t make sense of Chanyeol at all.

And then he makes the mistake of inadvertently blurting out that he’d like to see Chanyeol perform some time.

Major error, because Kyungsoo definitely does  _not_  mean it.

The twinkle in Chanyeol’s eyes suggest that he’s 120% agreeable to this idea, and enthusiastically asks Kyungsoo to come by the Epsilon – a club near Gangnam, Kyungsoo learns, where Chanyeol usually partakes in underground rap battles on Friday nights.

Kyungsoo has to plaster a fake smile and tells Chanyeol he will think about it. His gaze flickers across the café, looking for a new idea for a conversation topic, when he sees Chanyeol’s guitar leaning against his chair.

“You’re a multi-talented musician, then? Play the guitar too?”

“And drums. And the piano,” Chanyeol says. “But I’m not really good at them.”

“Why do you carry the guitar around, then?”  _Are you trying to show off or something?_  Kyungsoo thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud.

“Oh. I work part time as an entertainer at kids’ birthday party. Only on weekends though. Got an appointment at 3 pm today, just a few streets away from here.”

_Right._

“Doesn’t mean that my career as a rapper is over,” Chanyeol grins, when he notices the disbelief on Kyungsoo’s face.

“No—,” Kyungsoo flusters, “I just have trouble visualising you – no, never mind.”

Chanyeol’s laughter reverberates through the near-empty café, and it is annoyingly infectious that Kyungsoo starts to laugh, too.

\--

Free Sunday morning breakfasts are now a thing.

Chanyeol shows up at Kyungsoo’s door the next Sunday, carrying a bag of freshly baked croissants and two cups of searing hot chai latte, with his trusted guitar on his back. “Alright, boss. Park Chanyeol reporting for duty,” he salutes when Kyungsoo opens the door, still bleary eyed from staying up last night to write up the next chapter of his thesis.

“I’m sorry that you couldn’t come on Friday to Epsilon,” Chanyeol says when he enters the flat. “It was a blast,” he rattles on. Kyungsoo had conveniently texted Chanyeol to say that he has ‘something to do’ on Friday night – which in reality entails him snuggling on the sofa with his fleece blanket, watching black-and-white, subtitled French films on TV.

It doesn’t even take Chanyeol ten minutes into the carwash session when he starts asking Kyungsoo random questions, like:

“Why do you always wear black clothes? I’m not complaining, it’s just an observation.”

“Because—,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and sighs, “—I recycle my clothes and grab whatever is in my closet.” He wants to tell Chanyeol that it’s a precautionary measure, in case the weather is nice and everyone is happy but Kyungsoo happens to feels shitty on that day – at least he’s worn black to celebrate the occasion. If the weather is shitty and everyone looks glum and pitiful, he’s already worn black just to jump on the ‘miserable mood’ bandwagon. Either way, it’s a win-win situation. “Also, I’m a self-professed glum, miserable soul who potentially worships Satan,” he says, to add an extra punch of self-deprecating and dry humour.

Chanyeol looks as though he wants to say something – but he is wise enough not to. Instead, he only offers Kyungsoo a smile – that Kyungsoo couldn’t really decipher.

He falls deep in concentration with his chores, then – and Kyungsoo enjoys the silence, as he sits by to monitor Chanyeol’s progress. He enjoys the taste of warm buttery croissant melting in his mouth and the spicy sweetness of chai latte against his tongue, with the occasional sound of water spray hitting the car interspersed with the squeaks of sponge against the windscreen.

While waiting for the car to dry, Chanyeol starts strumming his guitar to random tunes – which one of them Kyungsoo recognizes as Bruno Mars’s ‘Billionaire’.

He doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it, but Chanyeol – the ever so observant, hawk-eyed Chanyeol, has noticed it.

“The great, glum Do Kyungsoo is humming!” Chanyeol exclaims excitedly. “And tapping his foot to my singing! This is breaking news!”

Kyungsoo freezes up in his seat instantly. “Shut up.”

“This is great!” Chanyeol runs up to him with a huge grin on his face, guitar in tow.

“Shut. Up!”

“Come on, Kyungsoo. I’ve heard you,” Chanyeol says. “I’ve heard you sing. Let go. Sing some more.”

“No!”

“I wanna be a billionaire, so freaking bad,” Chanyeol begins as he strums the chords, and pauses, eyes widened, expecting Kyungsoo to follow through. “I’m not teasing you because you sing off key. I’m sincerely asking you to sing because I think your voice is lovely.”

Kyungsoo could feel the tips of his ears flaming. Cheeks burning.

_This is bad._

“Buy all of the things I’ve never haaaad,” Chanyeol adds in monotonously, as he steps closer towards Kyungsoo and begins repeating the chord for the next verse, persisting until Kyungsoo groans and decides to sing along just to stop Chanyeol’s incessant monotonous singing.

“I wanna be the cover of Forbes magazine, smiling next to Oprah and the Queen,” Kyungsoo sings, and Chanyeol’s face lightens up, beaming proudly as if entranced; enchanted.

“And every time I close my eyes,” Kyungsoo continues, and that’s when Chanyeol decides to harmonize, and Kyungsoo inadvertently smiles, too. He could actually enjoy this.

 _This,_  whatever this is.

“I see my name in shining light, o-o-oh, a different city every night oh I swear – the world better prepare, for when I’m a billionaire—,” he sings, and—

“O-oh-oo-oh,” Chanyeol adds with his deep voice, which Kyungsoo replies with a “When I’m a billionaire,” – and they repeat that line several times, until Chanyeol ends the song with a tiny acoustic riff.

And then, absolute silence.

“Do Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says a few seconds later, when realization has hit him. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you could sing?”

“Do I have to?”

Chanyeol crosses his arms. “Does anyone know?”

“Does anyone have to know?”

Kyungsoo is being defiant, but that doesn't stop Chanyeol from gently clutching Kyungsoo’s hands. Kyungsoo’s eyes widen in shock. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Do Kyungsoo--," Chanyeol says with the brightest smile, "Would you do me the honour of accompanying me as a featured guest on stage when I rap next Friday night?”

\--

It soon transpires that Chanyeol has been looking for someone to sing the verses he has written. The girl that was supposed to do it broke up with him last month, and he has been thinking to just cut it out from the performance entirely.

Until he hears Kyungsoo sing.

That night Kyungsoo searches for Chanyeol on YouTube, and finds poor quality videos of his performances at Epsilon. It was noisy, dark, with strobe-lights the only source of light that aids Kyungsoo’s vision. Chanyeol only appears as a shady figure on the stage, but that voice is recognizable anywhere.

And then he starts beatboxing.

And raps.

Kyungsoo shuts down his laptop and pushes it away in panic. He doesn’t think that he could mingle in a dark, closed, basement-like environment, let alone perform there. Just thinking about it gives him a blinding headache.

 _I can’t do this_ , Kyungsoo thinks dreadfully, but he doesn’t have the guts to tell Chanyeol that he’s a coward, either.

Four miscalls, ten text messages and more than thirty Line App messages later, Kyungsoo still ignores Chanyeol because that is what he’s best at.

\--

On Wednesday, Kyungsoo finds out that he is able to join an excavation group at a new archaeological site – as part of his Masters degree. To celebrate, one of his colleagues suggests that they should go for an extended lunch at Viva Polo, because Junmyeon is a regular customer and gets discounted prices. He also couldn’t stop singing high praises for the food and service that Kyungsoo agrees to tag along just to shut him up.

The restaurant’s sounds familiar – but Kyungsoo hasn’t given it any real thought, except that a) he is really hungry and b) some seafood risotto would be lovely. It is not until they have walked until about 100 feet from the entrance that it all finally comes back to Kyungsoo in a whirlwind –

It’s where Chanyeol works.

Viva Polo is his mom’s restaurant.

_Curse this sudden and inevitable revelation. Also, my own absentmindedness._

“Um, can we go somewhere else? I’m not hungry anymore. Also, I’m allergic.”

“Allergic to what? I’ve seen you eat,” Junmyeon raises an eyebrow. “And you eat everything.”

“I’ve heard bad stuff about the place?” Kyungsoo proffers tentatively.

Junmyeon tilts his head in confusion. “What bad stuff? I know the owner. She’s a sweet lady and the food is amazing!”

Kyungsoo would have pulled a runner except that he has too much pride for that, and hey, maybe if he’s lucky Chanyeol might not even be working at the moment. Kyungsoo rationalizes his thoughts and attempts to slow-breathe to calm himself down. Despite whatever grudges he held about Chanyeol vomiting in his car, ironically it is Kyungsoo who is currently feeling nauseated. “I don’t feel well, Junmyeon.”

“You okay? Gosh, you do look pale,” Junmyeon says, as he places the back of his hand against Kyungsoo’s forehead.

_Yes. Maybe I can get out of this mess after all._

“Let’s go inside the restaurant and find a seat and get you a drink of water or something, okay?”

_No. Noooooo._

Kyungsoo screams internally, but he ends up trailing glumly behind Junmyeon anyway. They enter the restaurant, which is bumbling and bustling with customers – and already Kyungsoo’s mouth starts to salivate when the aroma of hearty Italian-Korean food fusion enters his nostrils.

_So far, so good. No sign of Chanyeol._

A tall, young waiter greets them as Junmyeon requests for a table for two – Kyungsoo’s eyes flicker to the nametag and notices that his name is Oh Sehun, before they are brought to a freshly-cleared table. Junmyeon asks if he could get a glass of water for Kyungsoo, and after handing them the menus, Sehun replies that someone will be up shortly to serve them.

“How are you feeling? Still nauseous? Ate something bad this morning?” Junmyeon asks in concern, but Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I think I’m fine now,” he smiles, because a major crisis has been averted. Chanyeol is  _not_  here. Kyungsoo is  _safe_.

Except that Chanyeol  _is_  here – and Kyungsoo is  _not_ safe.

“A glass of water?” Kyungsoo hears a familiar, deep-baritone voice that is laced with  _meaning_. Kyungsoo gulps and keeps his head down for a few more seconds, trying to hide his face behind his hands – but he has to face Chanyeol, somehow.

“It’s for him,” Junmyeon says, finally. Nudging at Kyungsoo. “Doesn’t feel too well.”

Kyungsoo finally raises his head and looks up – and Chanyeol looks different from the multiple Chanyeol-looks Kyungsoo has had the fortune to witness. He has his hair gelled up, in a white crisply buttoned up shirt – a cheap white buttoned-up shirt, but he is dressed smartly nonetheless. No guitars or snapbacks in sight. But contrary to expectations, the little bastard is  _not_  grinning from ear-to-ear.

_That’s a first._

In fact, he looks worried. “Are you okay? Do you want some paracetamol or something?” Chanyeol asks.

“I’m okay,” Kyungsoo blinks, voice cracking. “I just need to go to the restroom for a while to freshen up.”

“It’s over there,” Chanyeol points – and Kyungsoo sprints past Chanyeol to get away as soon as possible, even just for a minute.

\--

Kyungsoo splashes tap water on his face, forces himself to breathe deeply – slowly, to calm down. He doesn’t even know why he is having this sudden panic attack. Guilt, perhaps, from not replying to Chanyeol’s texts and leaving him in the dark about the truth? That Kyungsoo really isn’t keen to perform with him but hasn’t had the will to say ‘no’?

It’s not like Chanyeol is a bad person that Kyungsoo needs to avoid forever. It’s just that Chanyeol is a warm, bright ball of sunshine that Kyungsoo spent way too much time with – and worse, he enjoyed himself – that Kyungsoo becomes irrationally scared. Because it feels like he has lost sight of who he really is.

Because this is  _new._

The restroom door creaks open and Kyungsoo pretends to wash his hands, wipe his face with paper towels – when he catches Chanyeol’s reflection on the mirror. “Hey, stranger,”  Chanyeol greets him.

Kyungsoo swallows heavily. “Sorry,” he wrinkles his brows, although he doesn’t know what he’s sorry for.

“What are you sorry for, exactly?” Chanyeol asks, as if he could read Kyungsoo’s mind. “You’ve done nothing.”

“Sorry for ignoring you.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol chuckles gently. “ _That._  Well,” he sighs. “I suppose if you really don’t want to talk to me then fine. I just wish you’d told me why, you know?”

“That’s why I’m saying sorry!”

“Oh, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says, before taking a step closer towards Kyungsoo. He crosses his arms and leans against the sink, waiting for Kyungsoo to open up. “I just told my mom that I’m taking a five minute break, because I  _haven’t_ had my break. So. In five minutes, tell me.”

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath but keeps his head down. He stares at the stains on Chanyeol’s trousers, before the older man calls him out on it. “Hey. Am I really that ugly that you find the sauce stains on my pants more interesting than my face?”

“Tell you what?” Kyungsoo ignores Chanyeol’s taunting and challenges him for a stare-down, instead.

“What I’ve done wrong so I don’t do them again. I must have pissed you off big time.  _Again,_  after all that vomit caboodle. But I won’t know what’s wrong if you don’t tell me. It feels like we have some kind of an unresolved issue. Or  _issues_.”

“It’s not you,” Kyungsoo exhales. “It’s me.”

“You sound like one of my girlfriends when they want to break up with me, Kyungsoo. This isn’t a good sign at all.”

At the comment, Kyungsoo couldn’t stop himself from breaking into a tiny laughter. “Oh hey, you’re smiling again. And laughing too. We’re getting somewhere, aren’t we?” Chanyeol says with a smile. He slides closer and reaches over to place a large, warm hand upon Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

“I don’t think I can perform a duet with you on Friday night,” Kyungsoo finally confesses. That feels good – like a heavy burden has been lifted off his chest.

Chanyeol’s grip on his shoulder tightens slightly. Kyungsoo doesn’t even have to see Chanyeol to know that there is a wry smile etched on his face. “I think I’ve figured that out a long time ago, Kyungsoo. There’s something else though, isn’t it?” Chanyeol says.

Kyungsoo nods hesitantly, although he still has yet to figure out what ‘something else’ is. “How long have we known each other?” he asks, instead.

“Two—nearly three weeks?”

“And in these three weeks, how many times have we actually seen each other. Physically. Like, face to face.”

“Three or four,” Chanyeol replies with a frown on his face. “Where are you going with this?”

“I can do social interaction but I know I’m not good at it. That’s why I end up doing an archaeology degree and getting an internship as a curator at the Museum so that I don’t have to deal with people  _all_  the time. So that I could just concentrate on my Joseon pots. It takes a while for me to get along with people.”

“But once you do,” Chanyeol cuts in, “—you’re alright. You’re  _alright,_  Kyungsoo.”

“No, you don’t get it,” Kyungsoo huffs and pulls the fronts of his hair agitatedly. “I just talked to Jongin and Baekhyun the other day, and they were surprised because I’m letting you wash my car and come to my house on a regular basis when I barely know you.”

Chanyeol appears more confused than he already was. “So? It’s not like I’m not a serial killer.”

“It’s happening  _too_  fast,” Kyungsoo snaps. “ _You’re_  happening too fast. For me, you’re an  _anomaly._ ”

“I don’t know whether I should be offended or touched by that,” Chanyeol replies – and for the first time Kyungsoo realizes that all the confident swagger is gone. Chanyeol looks unsure; almost  _hurt._  “I’m just trying to be friendly. I’m sorry if I come across as being too— _friendly_.”

“I’m not used to friendly.”

Chanyeol’s hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder falls back to his side. Kyungsoo looks up and Chanyeol appears utterly dejected. The taller man sighs and shrugs, before opening his mouth to say something, before Kyungsoo cuts him off.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends with you, though,” Kyungsoo says in an attempt to salvage the situation, his voice shivering. He opens and closes his fists, before he decides to shove his hands nervously down his pockets.

Chanyeol’s expression immediately lightens up. “Really?”

Kyungsoo nods timidly.

The solemn declaration of friendship is another huge mistake, because Chanyeol literally leaps forward and pulls Kyungsoo into a crushing hug that nearly pushes the air out of Kyungsoo’s lungs. He could feel Chanyeol’s chin digging on top of his skull as the taller guy says “Thank you!” gleefully, which reminds Kyungsoo why he has wanted to avoid this man in the first place.

Worse, Chanyeol has even managed to lift Kyungsoo off his feet, letting them dangle at least 5 cm above the ground.

“Gerrofff me y’dumb oaf!” Kyungsoo groans, his voice muffled as his face is pressed against Chanyeol’s chest. “Lemme go—I—can’t—breathe—,” Kyungsoo says, before hitting Chanyeol’s shoulders with his fists and kicking his shins. It is only then that Chanyeol lets him go— “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—,” he says, and he appears genuinely concerned and apologetic that Kyungsoo merely ends up giving him a judgmental stare.

“Damn, you sure are strong and feisty,” Chanyeol says, grimacing with pain. “I think I’m going to have bruises from you kicking and hitting me tomorrow,” he says as he stretches his arms and swirling his shoulders in windmill motions, causing his joints to click. “Wait, we’re still friends, right?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Yes we  _are_. But hug me like that one more time we  _won’t_  be,” he warns menacingly.

Chanyeol grins. “Fine.  _Promise._  In fact, if I forget and start hugging you when I get excited, you can hit and kick me again. Like what you just did. Punch me until I remember to stop bugging you.”

“I don’t always want to resort to violence, Park Chanyeol.”

The idiot holds out his hand and wholeheartedly says, “To starting over. For the second time. Because I  _genuinely_  like you and you’re an amazing person and I don’t want to lose a friend.”

Kyungsoo could feel the blood rushing up to his cheeks. ‘ _You always know the right—or wrong things to say,’_ he thinks, and instead of shaking Chanyeol’s hand he decides to give a low-five.

“And a fist bump,” Chanyeol adds, holding his fist between them and smiles brightly. Kyungsoo thinks,  _‘Yeah, I could do this. Probably,’_ as he reciprocates.

_I will do this._

\--

Kyungsoo returns to his seat at the restaurant feeling much refreshed – and as if nothing has happened between him and Chanyeol in the restroom. Junmyeon is still concerned about Kyungsoo, but seeing as he is much better than what he was, they resume ordering food as normal. Kyungsoo doesn’t tell Junmyeon than he knows Chanyeol – and he is thankful that Chanyeol doesn’t say anything to Junmyeon, either. “It’s to avoid awkward conversations,” Kyungsoo explains to Chanyeol, and it’s better for Junmyeon to not know about the vomit incident to save Chanyeol’s pride.

Chanyeol acts appropriately professional for the rest of lunchtime, serving them food and drinks and the bill, like Kyungsoo is just another customer in his line of work. When Kyungsoo and Junmyeon decide to leave, Junmyeon is the one who tips Chanyeol – and Kyungsoo doesn’t.

Enough awkwardness for one day. He doesn’t need to tip Chanyeol when he already knows the man. Instead, he sends a text to Chanyeol – which he realizes is already out of character for him, saying, “I’ll text you later.”

Chanyeol replies four hours later – presumably at the end of his shift, with an “Okay. If you need to talk, I’m right here, alright?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to reply to that.

\--

Kyungsoo eventually grows the spine to tell Chanyeol that he’s not keen to go to Epsilon at all, because of the noise and crowds. Which effectively cancels out any plans of watching Chanyeol perform there, let alone have a duet with him. Surprisingly, Chanyeol is okay with this and doesn’t incessantly plead or push Kyungsoo into changing his mind, like what Kyungsoo expects him to do. Instead, Chanyeol calls him and tells him that it’s okay – and apologizes for asking Kyungsoo to do something he isn’t comfortable with.

That weekend, Chanyeol arrives with his guitar at Kyungsoo’s doorstep for another carwash session – and he suggests that if they can’t have a duet in front of an audience, then he’s wondering if he could spend some time having jamming sessions with Kyungsoo instead. “Why do you keep insisting that I sing with you?” Kyungsoo asks, and Chanyeol explains with a charming, boyish smile that “We click,” without any further elaboration.

They start off, then, sitting at Kyungsoo’s living room – and they start looking up songs that they both know, so that Chanyeol could play them on his guitar to accompany Kyungsoo’s singing. They start off with  _Billionaire,_  and then,  _Nothin’ on You_. It takes several efforts to achieve perfection, but with each line that they sing in harmony together, Kyungsoo begins to understand what Chanyeol means when he says that they  _click._

Chanyeol insists that Kyungsoo must have had singing lessons – or has performed in public somewhere, because if he hasn’t, Chanyeol is adamant that it is a calamity that needs to be corrected. Kyungsoo reluctantly tells Chanyeol that he did sing at school, but he didn’t make anything serious out of it. “I have severe stage fright, Chanyeol. I’d rather spend time singing to those old dumb pots that I work with than sing in public,” he confesses, and Chanyeol tilts his head, purses his lips in disquiet.

“Well then,” Chanyeol smiles, “I’m glad that I am blessed enough to be allowed to hear your singing voice, Kyungsoo. I’m glad that you’re sharing this with me.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to reply to  _that,_  either.

\--

It is half past two in the afternoon when Chanyeol’s stomach begins to grumble – and he looks up at the clock in horror, because he is late for his three o’clock birthday party appointment. “I’ll never make it even if I catch the train,” he says in panic, “—and I still have to change.”

“Change? Into what?”

“I can’t possibly go and perform at a kids’ birthday party looking like a hoodlum, can I? Must look appropriate to convince the other  _ahjummas_  that I’m kids-friendly,” he says as he rummages into his rucksack and pulls out a crumpled plaid shirt, before wearing it over his t-shirt and buttoning it up in a rush. “How do I look?” he asks Kyungsoo, who is bewildered by the sudden transformation.

“Uhmmm,” Kyungsoo stammers. “More kids friendly?” He means it, though. Within seconds Chanyeol the rapper is gone, and there is only a giant lumberjack dork standing in front of Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol nods absentmindedly as he returns his guitar into its case and rolls his sleeves up to his forearms in a rush.  Kyungsoo remains unfazed, staying still and watches Chanyeol, before Kyungsoo offers to drive him there. “Just tell me the address. And don’t puke in my car.”

Chanyeol’s face lightens up. “Really? Thank you!” he beams, before reaching over instinctively to pull Kyungsoo into a hug.

“Hug me and I’ll punch you in the gut,” Kyungsoo warns—and Chanyeol immediately retracts his arms to shield himself. “Gotcha,” he says.

\--

It is how Kyungsoo eventually ends up watching Chanyeol perform – not in a club, but in front of 10 to 15 seven-year-olds – Chanyeol’s peers, really when one thinks about it. The house is 45 minutes away by car, the client is the daughter of a friend of  _a friend_  of Chanyeol’s mom.

Chanyeol didn’t vomit. It’s an achievement.

Instead, he comes up with this brilliant plan that Kyungsoo could come watch him perform at the birthday party if he really couldn’t make it to Epsilon. “There’s cake! And food!” he has exclaimed excitedly.

“But I’m not invited,” Kyungsoo says, “—and they will not appreciate a stranger there.”

“I’ll think of something,” Chanyeol has replied nonchalantly, and he later proudly introduced Kyungsoo to everyone at the party as “My manager.”

_Did he just hire me as his manager on the spot?_

“Manager Do is here to monitor me and see if I can have room for improvement,” Chanyeol bluffs his way through and charms the entire household, while Kyungsoo safely crashes the party and even gets to eat the eye part of a Butterscotch Pororo cake.

From afar he watches Chanyeol open up his guitar case and slings the instrument over his shoulder, before clearing his throat. “Hello, kids. My name is Park Chanyeol and this is my Magical Guitar,” he begins, “—and I hope you’ll like this song,” he says.

Kyungsoo waits in anticipation.

When Chanyeol starts opening his mouth, Kyungsoo doesn’t quite know what to make of  _everything._

“Everybody pees the bed— it’s something that we do,” Chanyeol sings as the kids look on in awe (and Kyungsoo in horror).

_Where is he going with this?_

“I for instance peed the bed— ‘til I was twenty-two.”

_Huh._

Despite the subject matter, the kids love Chanyeol. Like a big, soft, warm teddy bear (or a giant giraffe plushie, depending how one looks at it) – and kids’ birthday party performer Chanyeol, in his crumpled plaid shirt and goofy songs and trusty guitar is too different from leather jacket wearing, badass-beatboxing-rapper Chanyeol. But by now Kyungsoo has known better, and believes that they’re one and the same person.

Chanyeol starts serenading the kids about stinky feet and nose-picking, but at this point Kyungsoo doesn’t even have the decency to be perturbed. In fact he is amused, and probably charmed. The kids’ parents are certainly smiling and nodding and laughing as they watch their children clapping along to Chanyeol’s tunes – and Kyungsoo is even more impressed because he knows that Chanyeol just made up the songs on the spot.

Just like when he freestyles.

“You peed the bed until you were twenty two?” Kyungsoo teases when Chanyeol stops for a break.

“It’s the only thing that rhymes,” Chanyeol replies with a shrug, before breaking into a small giggle. Kyungsoo chuckles too, before he takes another bite of his cake.

Kyungsoo asks Chanyeol how does he end up doing this as a part time job, and Chanyeol explains that he accidentally got roped into it by Sehun, who has booked a magician for his niece’s birthday – only to have the son-of-a-bitch to cancel one day before the party. Turning to the next best thing, he has bribed Chanyeol into covering for the magician.

“Sehun introduced me as Park Chanyeol and the Magical Guitar Stick,” Chanyeol snickers. “Oh, it was horrible. But in retrospect it was really good. Made good money out of it, too.” He further explains that there’s nothing wrong with exploring his inner child, because he recognizes that he’s still a five-year-old kid at heart. “Plus there’s free birthday cake. Every week! What’s not to love?”

“You do realize that you’re going to go all squishy  _here,_ ” Kyungsoo pokes Chanyeol’s stomach, “—if you don’t stop at some point and take care of yourself, right?”

“Oh—,” Chanyeol grabs Kyungsoo’s hands and snickers, “That tickles!” – but he doesn’t let Kyungsoo’s hand go. “Hey. I never thought you’d care about me.”

“I don’t really care about you—,” Kyungsoo replies, switching his gaze somewhere else apart from Chanyeol’s face, pulling his hand away. “I know how vain you are, with how you keep checking the mirror every five minutes and what not,” he says with the intention of throwing sarcasm, before forcing another bite of cake into his mouth.

And then, Chanyeol starts to laugh quietly in his corner.

“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?” Kyungsoo says and sends Chanyeol a deadly stare, but it only makes him laugh harder.

“No, it’s just ironic that you were talking about vanity and something on your face, and—,” Chanyeol begins, before Kyungsoo stands up abruptly – causing Chanyeol to cover himself in a defensive position. “You’ve got something on your—,” Chanyeol says, which makes Kyungsoo pause in his steps.

“Here, lemme—,” Chanyeol grabs a tissue and hesitantly – but gently wipes Kyungsoo’s upper lip and the sides of his mouth, when Kyungsoo makes it clear that he’s not going to hit Chanyeol.

They sit like that in silence, with Chanyeol’s hand resting atop Kyungsoo’s knee, eyes fixated on each other. “No one has ever done that for me – not even my own parents,” Kyungsoo wants to say, but his thoughts are interrupted by one of the kids’ parents who requests Chanyeol’s presence for an encore.

Chanyeol taps Kyungsoo’s knee twice before standing up, as if he’s sending a sign that  _things will be alright_ , or  _we’ll talk later_ , or something. As he disappears to perform his last song of the day, Kyungsoo stuffs himself with more food and makes sure that he wipes his mouth before Chanyeol returns.

\--

The car ride home is a quiet one.

Chanyeol gets a few more bookings to perform in other kids’ parties in the next few months, and they all subsequently are referred to Kyungsoo ‘to formally book a date’ after the Manager Do debacle. “Sorry, I didn’t think it through,” Chanyeol mutters, but Kyungsoo shakes his head and tells him it’s alright.

“It’s about time you need a manager anyway,” Kyungsoo replies.

Chanyeol has wanted to go home using public transport, but Kyungsoo insists that he should send Chanyeol home. “It’s the least I can do. I had fun today. Plus, free food. And a Pororo cake!”

“See? I know you’d enjoy it, somehow,” Chanyeol says smugly, and Kyungsoo wishes he could wipe the smirk off Chanyeol’s face.

They drive past the Apgujeong station when Chanyeol asks if he could stop by to buy some takoyaki. Kyungsoo fiddles his thumb and taps his fingers against the steering, against the beat of whatever music is playing on the radio, while he waits for Chanyeol. He is utterly surprised when Chanyeol returns with two plastic bags of takoyaki – “One for you,” he says, “—and one for me.”

Chanyeol insists that Kyungsoo should have some takoyaki – “As a thank you gift,” he says, “—for chauffeuring me around today,” and eventually Kyungsoo accepts, albeit reluctantly. He drops Chanyeol off in front of his flat building and waves him goodbye, but not before Chanyeol says “See you soon!” – which makes Kyungsoo’s heart drop.

Because he knows that Chanyeol  _means_  it.

\--

‘Soon’ turns out to be two nights later, when Baekhyun decides that he’s holding an impromptu dinner-slash-movie-night at his place. Granted, a one-off dinner (which turns out to be takeaway fried chicken) is all fine and dandy, but not before someone helpfully suggests that they should do this more often, and on a rotating basis.

“What do you mean by that?” Chanyeol pips curiously, and Jongin explains that each person should hold a movie night at his place every week, and Kyungsoo visibly freezes in his seat. “Is this really necessary?” he asks.

Baekhyun agrees wholeheartedly. “I can’t keep going out each week. This lifestyle is denting my bank account. But I still want to hang out with you guys.”

Obviously, the target venue for the upcoming week’s movie night is Kyungsoo’s place. “Why does it have to be me?” he asks in disbelief.

“Because—,” Jongin begins, “—it’s destined that way,” he helpfully explains. “What he means is that you have a nicer flat and you’re a great cook,” Baekhyun elaborates further.

“I didn’t know that you’re a great cook, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol exclaims for the opposite corner of the room, and Kyungsoo feels as though he wants to pull off all the hair from his scalp. “He makes awesome kimchi spaghetti!” Jongin adds, and Kyungsoo merely stares at him with gritted teeth.

_Great. Thanks for the support, guys._

“It’s unanimous, then. Your place, next weekend,” Baekhyun grins.

Kyungsoo is about to agree grudgingly, when Chanyeol comes up to him and asks gently if he’s actually okay with it. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, you know. I can offer my place instead,” Chanyeol says – and Kyungsoo is actually tempted by the offer, and maybe slightly touched that Chanyeol actually cares about what he thinks. “It’s okay. It’s better to get it over and done with earlier,” Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol – and the taller man smiles empathically. “Just ring me up if you need any help, okay? I work in a restaurant. I do know—  _stuff._ ”

Kyungsoo chuckles apprehensively at Chanyeol’s declaration. The taller man looks as though he is going to pat Kyungsoo’s head – but he pulls his hand away at the last minute, perhaps because of Kyungsoo’s relentless stare and his promise that he would hit Chanyeol if he does anything remotely displeasing. Chanyeol takes a deep breath and shrugs, before turning his attention towards Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo takes a furtive glance at Chanyeol, who is now busy setting up the TV for the movie night – and finds himself blushing – before averting his gaze away guiltily. He fiddles with the ends of his hoodie strings and focuses on the TV screen instead of the man crouching in front of it – and convinces himself that Chanyeol is only a dumb giraffe with Yoda-like ears who happens to be enthusiastic about befriending everybody, and not because Kyungsoo is  _special._   Because Kyungsoo has always believed that he is mediocre at everything, and terrible at friendships.

But maybe this one could work.

And maybe the next movie night at Kyungsoo’s place is not going to be disastrous after all.

\--

Chanyeol arrives early to help Kyungsoo prepare dinner, and the look on Baekhyun, Jongin and Sehun’s faces when Chanyeol greets them at the door is priceless. “What is he doing here so early? I thought  _we_  were early.”

Chanyeol doesn’t reply. Instead, he gives them his trademark silly grin and lets them interpret it as they will.

The dinner is a success – with Chanyeol unabashedly helps himself to second and third servings of Kyungsoo’s spaghetti—and even asks for the recipe, “—because my mom  _needs_  to know how to make this,” he says. What Kyungsoo doesn’t expect, though, is what kind of movie-night this is meant to be – until Sehun pops in the DVD into the player. They’ve switched off all the lights save one, and it isn’t even two minutes into the film until Kyungsoo realizes that it is a rated film, with an explicit scene that comes out from nowhere. He has no qualms about watching a rated film – he’s a social pariah, not a pious priest – but watching it with a bunch of other guys is a bit – awkward. “We’re all legal here, don’t worry!” Baekhyun asserts, and Kyungsoo facepalms.

_Perverts._

Several more explicit scenes come up later in the film – and Kyungsoo blinks, watching them and thinking,  _'Am I supposed to be turned on by this?'_ The answer is probably yes, but any sensuality that the film is trying to convey has conveniently been hampered by someone giggling – Sehun or Baekhyun, perhaps, and Chanyeol’s incessant popcorn crunching noise.

For some reason Kyungsoo finds the sound more soothing than the darkened lights.

\--

Chanyeol helps with the washing late until after midnight, way after everyone has left – and he yelps when he takes a look at his watch. “What is it?” Kyungsoo asks, his eyes wide with worry.

“I think I’ve missed the last train.”

Kyungsoo stares at Chanyeol in incredulity. “What is it with you and missing trains?”

“I only ever keep doing it when I’m here at  _your_  place!”

“Oh great, so it’s my fault now,” Kyungsoo retorts.

“It’s not your fault that—,” Chanyeol begins, before he purses his lips and shakes his head. “Never mind.”

“It’s not my fault that— what?” Kyungsoo asks, brows furrowed.

“It’s not your fault—,” Chanyeol restarts again, “—that—your place is like a—,” he flails his hands around, “—like a  _magnet,_ ” he eventually finishes his sentence, albeit hesitantly. “It’s so comfy!”

Kyungsoo watches Chanyeol without blinking, narrowing his eyes, because he knows that Chanyeol isn’t telling the truth. But he will let this one slide. Instead, he takes a deep breath and offers Chanyeol to crash at his place, instead. “It’s late. I’m too tired to drive you home. Just spend the night here. You can take the sofa. You’ve helped me a lot today.”

Chanyeol is about to make the ‘Really?’ face, and nearly wants to pull Kyungsoo into a hug, but he retraces his steps when Kyungsoo walks forward with his hand clenched in a fist. “Thank you!” he says, instead.

But how he fits on Kyungsoo’s two-seater sofa is another story. He looks pathetic and hilarious sleeping on it, with his legs dangling off the edges, before deciding to curl the entire length of his body into a fetal position. It doesn’t look comfortable, but Kyungsoo couldn’t help snorting at Chanyeol anyway.

“Whose fault is it that someone doesn’t have a larger sofa? Or a sofa bed?” Chanyeol asks impishly.

“I didn’t actually plan on buying furniture with you specifically in mind, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says expressionlessly. “Or any guest in particular,” he adds.

Chanyeol stretches and jumps off the sofa. “I can just sleep on the floor.”

Kyungsoo considers this for a moment, before he shakes his head and motions Chanyeol to follow him. “No, come on. I have a double bed. We can share.”

“You don’t mind? With your personal issues, et cetera?”

“Ah, what the hell. As long as you stay on your side and don’t hog the blanket, it’s fine by me.”

“You’re the best, Kyungsoo. I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow. I’ll even make the bed,” Chanyeol promises as he trails behind Kyungsoo, carrying his pillows and blankets like an oversized kid at a sleepover party.

Chanyeol insists on offering to do things for Kyungsoo, because he says that he still feels awful about vomiting in Kyungsoo’s car. But that was nearly three months ago. And usually Kyungsoo would loath for someone to encroach his personal territory, tinker about in his kitchen – and ruins his organized clutter.

Tonight though, Kyungsoo is feeling extra generous. The last time he shared a bed with someone, it was with his brother – and that was when they were kids, when he was still afraid of thunderstorms and needed someone to make him feel safe.

He’s not a kid. There is no thunderstorm tonight, and he doesn’t need someone to make him feel safe.

But it doesn’t mean that Kyungsoo has to sleep  _alone._

\--

Kyungsoo wakes up the smell of coffee and bacon and eggs, and finds Chanyeol in the kitchen, already plating the dishes to serve Kyungsoo breakfast. “I was just about to wake you up,” he says, bright as a button, and Kyungsoo doesn’t realize how disgusting of a morning person Chanyeol is until this moment. “Do you always do this even at home? Like, every morning?” he asks, yawning as he scratches his head.

“I’ll let you into a secret,” Chanyeol bends down and half-whispers into Kyungsoo’s ear.

“What?” Kyungsoo slaps Chanyeol away, scratching at his ear as Chanyeol tries to evade from being punched.

“I’m not even remotely a morning person! I usually do this to impress my girlfriends!” he shrieks as Kyungsoo pulls on his ear.

“Hmm,” Kyungsoo pauses, before letting go of Chanyeol’s ear, which has reddened from being pinched by Kyungsoo. “Since when did I become your girlfriend?” Kyungsoo asks with a deadpan expression.

“You’re  _not_  my girlfriend.”

“That’s an astute observation, Chanyeol. Well done,” Kyungsoo comments sardonically.

“Doesn’t mean that I can’t use the same tactic to impress you.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “That is the worst pick up line ever.” And later, he asks, “Does it  _actually_ work? Helping to make breakfast?”

Chanyeol nods self-assuredly. “Yes,  _actually._ ”

“Did you buy extra takoyaki for them as well?” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow.

“No that’s just for you,” Chanyeol replies.

“Nice to know.”

\--

Kyungsoo doesn’t smile a lot, but Jongdae and Junmyeon at work have noticed that there is a slight spring in his steps – but doesn’t dare try to comment in fear that Kyungsoo might recoil back into his usual self. It’s not that Kyungsoo’s usual self is abhorrent – far from it. Kyungsoo is polite, soft-spoken, shy. In group meetings he only offers ideas when prompted – and it is not like his ideas were completely bonkers and impractical.

In fact, sometimes the team does end up using his ideas.

He is reserved – he is there, but blink and he will disappear. He blends into the crowd, his voice drowned by loud-mouthed aspirants who talks relentlessly and leads by rhetoric. It is no wonder, then, that he is suited for this job – this internship as a junior curator at the National Museum, where he spends days in a room cataloguing artefacts and carrying out background research about said artefacts. The public relations stuff usually falls down to Jongdae and Junmyeon, who will liaise with other independent agencies, schools, giving lectures at exhibitions, et cetera. For the most part, Kyungsoo enjoys being in the background, corresponding by letters and emails instead of telephone calls or meeting face-to-face.

It is a surprise, then, that Kyungsoo volunteers to liaise with the ‘Korea in the 21st Century’ department for a collaborating project they are working on – to see how the Joseon era has impacted Korea’s modern culture. It starts off with a phone call that Kyungsoo picks up – and Junmyeon is amazed that he is able to hold a conversation for more than half an hour, negotiating terms for the exhibition. At lunch, Kyungsoo is the one who goes to Jongdae and Junmyeon’s desks asking if they’re free for a break – and he does this with a smile on his face, as if he genuinely wants to have lunch with Junmyeon and Jongdae.

They wonder, but they never ask.

\--

In truth, Kyungsoo’s heart feels lighter, but he couldn’t pinpoint why. It has been a long time since he feels content – and for once in his life, he thinks that he could be carefree without overthinking about the repercussions. He has started to hum silly love songs as he writes up articles for publications, or when he’s arranging pieces of broken pots in display windows for the upcoming exhibition. He doesn’t even stop humming when he catches himself doing it – in fact, he merely chuckles to himself and starts again.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he actually enjoys having friends, now. For the longest time he has always felt like he couldn’t fit in, because he couldn’t break through that wall of introversion he has built around himself. He has tried, but he regresses back into his comfort zone. There’s Baekhyun and Jongin – and Jongdae and Junmyeon at work, but that is as much social interaction that he could stand in one day.

Afterwards he just needs to go home and recharge.

He doesn’t know why, then, that he finds the weekly movie nights a brilliant idea. It all stems from Baekhyun’s stupid stingy ass idea to socialize without spending more money that he has to.  Probably the fact that the last movie night at his place was a success.

Probably the fact that he enjoys being complimented about his cooking and being appreciated, once in a while.

Kyungsoo clutches his head in his hands and sighs.

He’s flying high, and he resents the fact that he will fall someday.  _This will probably hurt later,_  he thinks. But until then, he’s going to ride the wind and see how far it takes him.

It’s not gonna last, whatever this is.

Nothing ever does.

\--

Kyungsoo has rarely looked forward to weekends – except for resting, shopping for groceries and laundry. Now, it’s as if weekends have a new meaning, starting with Chanyeol’s weekly carwashing sessions – which has now ended. Chanyeol still insists that he needs to do it, but Kyungsoo respectfully declines the offer. “What if you miss your birthday appointments again?” Kyungsoo reasons.

“But we’re still going to have jamming sessions, right?” Chanyeol texts back.

It takes Kyungsoo three days to reply to the text message. “Yeah,” he eventually replies, without elaborating further. They’ll make time, somehow.

 _Time_  is  _during_  those weekend movie nights, at Sehun’s house or Jongin’s or Baekhyun’s, when the other guys are doing the washing up and Chanyeol quietly strums his guitar while Kyungsoo looks on, and starts singing the verses while Chanyeol raps. Time is  _after_  those weekend movie nights, at Kyungsoo’s place or Chanyeol’s, when everyone else has left but they are left on their own, when Chanyeol allows Kyungsoo to listen to his compositions and even lets Kyungsoo sing the verses.

Chanyeol records the sessions on tape, stating that ‘If I were to send these one of those major entertainment companies, I swear to God they will hire you on the spot,’ – but Kyungsoo convinces him that it’s the worst idea ever, and has to wrestle him to the floor to get him to promise that he wouldn’t do it.

They have another rated film on the list to watch tonight at Chanyeol’s house, and it is after the film ends that Baekhyun asks him about his ideal type. Kyungsoo doesn’t even pay attention to the answer, but there is a commotion when Sehun disagrees with Chanyeol. “I thought you liked sexy, leggy girls,  _hyung_?” Sehun exclaims, and Kyungsoo turns just in time to see Chanyeol turn beetroot red.

“Sorry, what did he say?” Kyungsoo asks Baekhyun.

“Chanyeol said that he likes ‘the cute type’,” Baekhyun says in amusement. 

“Well. Tastes can change,” Chanyeol says defensively. “And it so happens, that  _if_  Kyungsoo is a girl for instance, I would probably date him. Because he’s cute!”

Sehun’s mouth gapes wide, while Baekhyun makes an annoyed sound. “Hey, you asked!” Chanyeol says without any remorse. Meanwhile, Kyungsoo being the unsuspecting victim of the conversation, reacts  by standing up and crossing his arms – before staring at Chanyeol without a word.

Chanyeol knows it’s coming. He starts to move away – before Kyungsoo begins to chase Chanyeol around the flat, with Chanyeol trying to dodge Kyungsoo’s hand away. It’s only seconds before Kyungsoo manages to catch Chanyeol, who ends up rolling on the floor laughing and Kyungsoo falling on top of him. They wrestle like that for another few seconds, when Baekhyun mutters, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” to no one in particular, while Sehun merely blinks and says, “Wah, that  _hyung_  is  _daebak_ ,” although no one has any idea if he is referring to Kyungsoo or Chanyeol. Kyungsoo ends up putting Chanyeol in a headlock, while Chanyeol wheezes, gasping for air. “Sorry! I’m just stating a fact! Don’t hit me!”

When Kyungsoo finally lets him escape, Chanyeol only manages to stay apart from him for two minutes before they end up sitting next to each other on the couch, again.

\--

Kyungsoo stays back at Chanyeol’s place to return the favour; to do the washing up – and since Chanyeol doesn’t have a bed, he offers Kyungsoo a spot on his futon, instead. It has started to rain outside – and probably hailing, too. “I was going to play more songs on my guitar, but it’s so cold that I think my fingers are going to fall off,” Chanyeol says as he tucks himself into a blanket fort.

“You think?” Kyungsoo sniffles as he rubs his palms together. “I think my whole face is going to fall off,” he says, before he tries to go to sleep.

He fails.

It is only a minute later that Kyungsoo asks Chanyeol, “Did you pay your heating bill?”

“Of course I did!”

Doubting Chanyeol, Kyungsoo shuffles next to the heater and switches it on, and waits for a full five minutes to no avail. “Great,” he huffs. He couldn’t believe that he could see steam coming out from his mouth as he speaks. “The heater is not working.”

“I’ve not used the heater in ages.”

Kyungsoo looks down at Chanyeol incredulously.

“I’m trying to save up money!” Chanyeol defensively says. “But I have blankets?” he proffers, albeit unsuccessfully.

“I have six of them wrapped around me and my teeth are still chattering,” Kyungsoo replies, unimpressed.

Chanyeol hesitates – before appearing to give this some thought, and only manages to come up with an unapologetic, “Lets huddle together, then.”

Kyungsoo blinks in the dark. “Are you kidding me?”

\--

Kyungsoo wakes up at 7 a.m. pretending that everything is normal.

Although it’s actually not.

He finds himself snuggling against Chanyeol’s chest, with the older man’s arms around him, their legs entangled between each other’s. It’s a warm, safe place – and he rubs his face against Chanyeol’s hoodie, groaning slightly, before he realizes  _where_  he is and  _who_  he is with.

He pulls his head away slightly and tilts it up to look at Chanyeol – who is still sound asleep. Kyungsoo holds his breath and tries to shift himself away, repositioning Chanyeol’s arm which has been parked conveniently on Kyungsoo’s waist. He manages to sit up without waking Chanyeol, and lets out a sigh.

It’s a grey Sunday morning. Raindrops are pattering against the glass pane, and Kyungsoo peers through the windowsill in search of any hint for sunlight, without any luck. He turns to look at Chanyeol, at the curve of his nose and his chiselled jaw, and the soft black hair that falls over his forehead. Chanyeol is snoring softly, even mumbles in his sleep – and Kyungsoo turns his gaze away, before rubbing his eyes. Something is stinging – but Kyungsoo refuses to acknowledge them as tears. He blinks them away, and within seconds the familiar feeling of  _hurt_  is gone.

_What a bloomin’ idiot._

What’s worse, Kyungsoo doesn’t even know if that thought is directed towards Chanyeol or himself.

Kyungsoo is glad that at least, there have been no happy accidents throughout the night— or this morning. He does gets awakened once at 1.30 a.m., then 3.15 a.m., then 5.40 – because it is freezing and even Chanyeol’s blanket fort couldn’t stop him from shivering. He has gone past caring about his virtue or pride, and apparently, neither does Chanyeol – because Kyungsoo remembers that they were up together for a few minutes at some point, and Kyungsoo  _remembers_  that Chanyeol sleepily pulls Kyungsoo towards him – or was it himself that happily slides into Chanyeol’s arms, because Chanyeol is warm and snuggly and comfy?

He’s wide awake now. He’s still cold and shivering, but he wraps a blanket around himself and thinks that the rain will stop soon.

The rain will stop and he will leave, and he will forget that this has ever happened.

\--

Kyungsoo keeps telling himself to not get over-involved; to keep a distance. In retrospect, he should have said no when Baekhyun organizes a surprise birthday party for Chanyeol, which also involves his family. It’s another misstep in his calculation, because Chanyeol has been telling his mom and sister about Kyungsoo – and thus is expected to attend – because they are really keen to ‘meet Chanyeol’s new friend’. Kyungsoo asks Baekhyun how he knows this – and Baekhyun replies that he meets up with Chanyeol’s mom frequently enough to know that she hassles Chanyeol about wanting to meet Kyungsoo, because Chanyeol wouldn’t stop talking about Kyungsoo.

The meeting with Chanyeol’s mom isn’t as catastrophic as Kyungsoo has made out in his mind. It turns out that she wants to learn how to make Kyungsoo’s version of kimchi spaghetti, because apparently she could never get it right when she tries to make it for Chanyeol. Kyungsoo spends half the day in the kitchen with Chanyeol’s mom, before Yura – Chanyeol’s sister arrives, and requests that he sings for them. Kyungsoo must have made a ‘how did you know?’ face – because Chanyeol’s mom immediately tells him that Chanyeol couldn’t stop waxing lyrical about his voice.

After much hesitation, Kyungsoo finally sings the chorus of a song he knows too well – Na Yoon Kwon’s ‘ _Expectation_ ’, before they give him a big applause. Within a minute, he has managed to capture the hearts of two new doting fans.

“Your girlfriend must be so lucky,” Yura teases, “—because you have good looks, you sing beautifully, and you’re a wonderful cook.”

Kyungsoo stares at both of them blankly. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he stammers.

“And you’re such a nice, polite boy as well,” Chanyeol’s mom adds— ignoring him completely. “I wish Chanyeol is more like you.”

“At this rate she might even adopt you,” Yura winks. “Isn’t that what you’re already planning, mom?”

Kyungsoo blushes so hard that he wishes he could hide inside the oven where they’re baking Chanyeol’s birthday cake.

\--

It isn’t until much,  _much_  later when everything starts to go downhill.

More and more people arrive at Chanyeol’s flat – people that Kyungsoo has never met. He ends up hiding in the kitchen, under the guise of ‘checking if the food is okay’, while waiting for Chanyeol to return home. Kyungsoo isn’t even in the same room as Chanyeol when he eventually arrives – and misses the surprised look on Chanyeol’s face when he enters, with confetti thrown at the door and the crowd singing ‘Happy Birthday’, while Baekhyun carries the birthday cake with candles on top. Kyungsoo stands at the sidelines – pressed up against the wall, watching as Chanyeol pulls off his gunbam hat and musses up his hair, before closing his eyes for a moment to make a wish – and blows the candles. Kyungsoo slips back into the kitchen to help Yura and Jongin serve food – while Chanyeol sits at the living room, unwrapping his presents.

It’s mostly clothing item after clothing item, hat after hat – and it is then that Kyungsoo learns how much Chanyeol is into gunbam hats, given how many of them he has received as presents so far. There are three Rilakkumas – and maybe more, but Kyungsoo has lost count.

And then, he hears Chanyeol yell, “Kyungsoo-yah!” – which immediately makes Kyungsoo cringe. “Are you hiding from me?”

_Oh, shit._

Kyungsoo stays still in the kitchen. He doesn’t even respond to Chanyeol calling out his name.

“Kyungsoo-yah!”

Judging from the increasing volume of his voice, Kyungsoo knows that Chanyeol is drawing closer.

_Great._

“I know you’re in the kitchen,” Kyungsoo hears the deep, gravelly voice even before he physically sees Chanyeol. The first thing that appears when the kitchen door creaks open, though, is a giraffe plushie.

 _Kyungsoo’s_  giraffe plushie – the one he has just bought for Chanyeol as a birthday gift.

“Go away,” Kyungsoo motions with his hand – but he couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his face. He might have even laughed harder when Chanyeol finally dares to show his face – wearing a furry hat with fox ears and non-prescription glasses, nonetheless. “Thanks, Kyungsoo,” he says, as he bends the giraffe’s neck up and down, and makes a silly kiddy voice. “A giraffe. How very original.”

Kyungsoo’s only retort is, “I would have bought a  _sloth_  if they had it at the toy store. But a giraffe is the closest thing they have that reminds me of you.”

“Oh, how you wound me,” Chanyeol replies, before he gets pulled back into the living room to finish unwrapping the rest of his presents.

Kyungsoo doesn’t get a chance to speak to Chanyeol for the rest of the night.

He merely watches as Chanyeol gets surrounded by his friends – the friends that aren’t part of Kyungsoo’s circle, as he tries on his new hats and shirts, and takes photos with the Rilakkuma collection he now owns. The crowd cheers and jeers when Chanyeol makes a joke – and Kyungsoo laughs – not because he’s heard Chanyeol’s punchline of the joke, but because of how  _happy_  Chanyeol looks.

_Radiant._

The laugh turns bitter, then, when Kyungsoo realizes that he’s probably not needed here anymore –before he takes a look at his watch and realizes that it’s probably nigh time that he leaves. Kyungsoo is reminded that he is just another passer-by in Chanyeol’s life, swarming his space; tiny and unimportant. He doesn’t belong here, where Chanyeol is the sun, the centre of the universe – and Kyungsoo is a dwarf star, hovering at the peripheries.

 _They don’t see, as I do, the underlying misery of the whole damn thing. They’re hollow optimists,_  he thinks.  _They smile because they think they’re always going to be happy._

Kyungsoo wishes he’s never come here at all.

He has considered saying goodbye personally to Chanyeol – but given the circumstances, the endless throngs of people that keep surrounding the birthday boy – Kyungsoo ends up sending a text saying, “Happy birthday,” and doesn’t even wait until Chanyeol has had the chance to read it before leaving. He manages to quickly whisper, “I’m leaving,” to Jongin – who barely registers what he’s saying because of the noise – before quietly slipping away through the back door.

When the cold air of November hits his face, Kyungsoo takes a deep breath and swallows heavily, tightly clenching his fists until his nails dig deep into his palms. He’s never been more delighted to get away from the stuffy confinements of Chanyeol’s flat— to an empty, soulless street.

Solitude has never been more enticing than this.

\--

Chanyeol phones him the next day, wondering why Kyungsoo has left the party early when he had prepared a song for Kyungsoo. But Kyungsoo only manages to laugh nervously as a response, adamant that Chanyeol is just making stories up, before telling Chanyeol that he needs to get back to work.

“It’s true,” Jongin later confirms with Kyungsoo – about Chanyeol’s song dedication. He sends Kyungsoo a video of that night – and Kyungsoo watches in horror through his phone, because Chanyeol  _did_  dedicate a song to him.

“This song is for Kyungsoo, who inspired me to write it because of his voice, because I’ll never do this song as much justice as I know  _he_  would—,” Chanyeol began in the video, holding the guitar in his hands, as on-screen Chanyeol narrowed his eyes to search for Kyungsoo in the crowd. “Where are you, Kyungsoo?” he asked. The audience murmured among themselves, because no one knew where Kyungsoo had gone.

“Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol called out again – and Kyungsoo – who is watching the video through his phone screen, has to bite the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from screaming.

“Kyungsoo-yah? Are you hiding?” Chanyeol asked again in the video, before someone –  _Jongin,_  perhaps, shouted out that Kyungsoo was not in the building anymore. Kyungsoo witnesses the split-second change in on-screen’s Chanyeol’s expression – a sense of apprehension— before he reverted back to a charming smile. “Ahh, he’s shy, probably. Anyway—,” Chanyeol said, before Kyungsoo pauses the video and throws his phone frantically onto the bed. He couldn’t bear watching it anymore, not when he is overwhelmed with guilt. Not when on-screen Chanyeol began strumming the first chords of the song, with Kyungsoo’s giraffe plushie tucked conveniently on his left shoulder.

He doesn’t know what song Chanyeol has written, or has sung – and doesn’t watch the video fully, not until later. It is  _later_ when he will realize the true reason why Chanyeol has dedicated the song for him, and it’s not just because of his voice.

“Well,” Chanyeol will say, “—it  _is_  your voice that inspired me to compose the melody, because I imagined you singing it as I’m writing it,” he will explain. “But the lyrics. It was how I felt about you.”

Kyungsoo will be in shock, but at that point maybe he has  _always_  known.

But for now, Kyungsoo is safe from this knowledge – and perhaps ignorance is truly bliss.

\--

He learns that his application to join an excavation site has been approved and the dates have been confirmed – and it’s a welcome distraction. It means that he will be spending less time in Seoul until the end of the year, at least. He has never been more pleased to leave Seoul, to spend time in the countryside, far away from everyone that he knows, from the crazy city and its quirks.

Kyungsoo spends his days working, covered in dust and dirt at the excavation site. He only returns to Seoul for Christmas and New Year’s Day, but even then he doesn’t spend it with his friends. Instead he spends his days indoors, with his family. He receives random text messages from Chanyeol – ‘Let me know when you’re back in Seoul – we all miss you,’ it says, and about ten different variations of them on their Line group chat (which Kyungsoo rarely ever replies on). There are times when he comes off work and finds out that he has 243 unread messages – and doesn’t even bother checking them anymore. It appears that the weekend movie nights have ceased about two weeks since Kyungsoo left Seoul for the excavation works. He figures that it would be significantly rude if he doesn’t reply at least once, so he says ‘Okay’ – and Chanyeol manages to wait only five seconds after the message appeared on the group chat before he rings Kyungsoo.

“You’re alive!” Chanyeol exclaims through the phone – and Kyungsoo has to pull the receiver away from his ear because of the loudness of Chanyeol’s voice.

“Hello, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo replies. “What do you want?”

There is some hesitation from the other side of the line.

“Just wanted to check up on you,” Chanyeol eventually replies.

“I’m alive, as you’ve obviously pointed out,” Kyungsoo says drily.

“You have no idea how much I—,” Chanyeol begins, before he corrects himself, “— _we,”_ he pauses, “—miss you.”

“You just miss someone to annoy the hell out of, that’s all.”

Chanyeol chuckles, before asking when Kyungsoo will return to Seoul – to which he replies that he’s not sure. “When my job here is finished, I suppose,” Kyungsoo says.

“Will you come back for Jongin’s birthday, at least? And yours?”

Kyungsoo could see where this conversation is heading. “If you’re thinking about throwing a surprise birthday party—,” he warns Chanyeol, before the older man cuts him off.

“It’ll be a small party. Just us. Please?”

Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol that he will try to get as much done at work so that he could return to Seoul by the second week of January.  _If it’s not for my own birthday, it’s kind of unfair for Jongin,_  Kyungsoo thinks.

\--

The first thing that strikes Kyungsoo at his joint birthday party with Jongin’s is a Pororo birthday cake, with his name written along the sides.

“I feel like I should say something clever,” Kyungsoo mutters in disbelief – and amazement. He knows that this isn’t meant to be a surprise birthday party because he has specifically requested for it – but  _this_  –

This is a  _surprisingly_  pleasant surprise.

“You don’t have to,” Chanyeol smirks, as he records Kyungsoo’s reaction on a video camera. Instinctively Kyungsoo raises an arm to cover his face, but not out of rage. He’s genuinely embarrassed, but at the same time he couldn’t stop laughing when Chanyeol says that he has ordered the Pororo cake from the same bakery that made the cake at the kids’ birthday party that Kyungsoo crashed into.

“I’ve also noticed something,” Chanyeol says as he switches the camera off. “I’ve noticed how you always take photos of other people, of your surroundings, of your pots – but you don’t like your own photo getting taken.”

“I try to avoid it whenever I can,” Kyungsoo says, when he finally catches his breath. Mischievously, Chanyeol points the camera at Kyungsoo and begins recording again. “Today’s  _your_  day. It’s all about you, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo stares at the lens, then up at Chanyeol, then back at the lens again. Blinking once, twice. Slowly.

“I’m not used to being at the centre of attention,” he says then, straight into the camera.

“Get used to it, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol smiles gently. “You’re the focus of my attention now.”

\--

Later, Kyungsoo unwraps Chanyeol’s present – a small box, but relatively heavy for its size. His heart skips a beat when he realizes that it’s a book— and a book that Kyungsoo knows by heart.

_How does he know that I don’t have this book?_

“The Little Prince,” Kyungsoo reads the title, dumbfounded. From the corners of his eyes he could see Chanyeol watching him, eyes wide and expectant – probably hoping that he wouldn’t make fun of the gift. “Thank you, Chanyeol. This is very thoughtful of you,” Kyungsoo says – before Chanyeol breaks into a huge grin. “He reminds of you. The Little Prince, I mean.”

Kyungsoo asks if Chanyeol has read it himself – and he nods animatedly. “The story – it’s so simple, and yet so imaginative, and so _profound,_ ” he says, and it’s the first time that Kyungsoo sees Chanyeol slowly falling into a pensive mood. “And there are the illustrations, of course,” Chanyeol says, reverting back to his bright and bubbly self.

“You do know what happens in the end, don’t you?” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “He dies.”

“He  _lives,_  Kyungsoo. He lives and  _laughs_ in the stars,” Chanyeol contradicts him, furrowing his brows. “And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night...You— only you— will have stars that can laugh,” Chanyeol solemnly quotes the book, not breaking eye contact with Kyungsoo as he says the words.

Chanyeol, however, is  _not_  laughing.

Silence descends upon the room. Baekhyun’s gaze travels back and forth between Kyungsoo and Chanyeol – as he witnesses what has just transpired. “I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” he says, breaking the silence, “—but I sure do know that you’ve spoiled the book for me.”

\--

Kyungsoo could feel someone’s presence looming behind him, as he washes the dishes at the sink.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo groans, because he could see smell the combination of antiseptic and clean linen off the older man. Chanyeol puts his arms around Kyungsoo from behind, and Kyungsoo lets him.

“You’re not going to hit me?” the deep voice growls against his ear, and Kyungsoo shudders a little.

“Too tired to care, to be honest.”

“Good. Because I’ve figured out that this is the only way I could hug you without crushing you or potentially murdering you by asphyxiation.”

The plates clank against each other as Kyungsoo arranges them on the drying rack. “Why do you insist on hugging me anyway?” he asks.

Chanyeol’s hold on him tightens, as he rests his chin on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “I don’t know, I just feel like giving you one. Just to fill in your daily quota of hugs.”

“The Pororo cake is a nice touch,” Kyungsoo says – trying to change the topic of conversation. He could feel Chanyeol’s cheek by his temple; feels the movements of Chanyeol’s jaw as he speaks. “I remember how fascinated you were by the cake,” Chanyeol says, his breath warm against Kyungsoo’s ear. “At that moment, even for one minute, you looked as though all your problems and worries were gone. You looked genuinely  _happy._ ”

Kyungsoo pauses. “I’m happy  _now._ ”

“I believe you, but sometimes I don’t know if you don’t say it—or if you don’t show it. You’re an enigma,” Chanyeol says. Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol’s hand away as he turns around, so that he could face Chanyeol. He finds himself trapped against the sink— with Chanyeol towering in front of him, only inches apart.

“All grown-ups were once children— but only few of them remember it,” Kyungsoo says, his voice cracking. “The Little Prince reference,” he adds with a sardonic smile, before sighing. “I’ve  _forgotten,_  Chanyeol. You made me  _remember_  again. So thank you.”

Kyungsoo watches Chanyeol’s Adam’s apple makes the up-down movement as he swallows, his gaze flickering back and forth between Kyungsoo’s eyes and the floor. There is a visible blush painted on Chanyeol’s cheeks, before he grins toothily and takes a step back, distancing himself from Kyungsoo.

“You know the song that I sang at my birthday party?” he asks breathlessly. “I wrote it because I was hoping that you’d be able to sing it.”

Kyungsoo explains that he has not fully watched the video that Jongin has sent him – but doesn’t tell Chanyeol why. To his surprise, Chanyeol is glad that he hasn’t watched it, because apparently he has tinkered with the song and improved the background music using synths and piano, instead of acoustics. “I wonder if you want to listen to the new demo I’ve made and try singing it?” Chanyeol asks. “Honestly, it’s more suited to your singing style than mine.”

“What’s it called?”

“Don’t have a title yet – it’s a short song,” Chanyeol scratches his head, appearing bashful.

Kyungsoo quirks an eyebrow. “Provisionally?”

“Tell me what is love?”Chanyeol offers, scrunching his nose.

Later, Kyungsoo glances at the lyrics – and tries to make out the words out of Chanyeol’s scrawls in his battered lyrics notepad. His heart sinks as soon as he realizes the depth of the lines. “You dedicated this song to me? Of all people? Are you sure you’re not singing to your ex-girlfriend or your crush or something?”

Chanyeol looks flustered. “I told you, it’s your voice. I had the melody in my head for weeks! With  _your_  voice singing it. With _your_ adlibs and everything.”

“But the  _lyrics,_  Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo narrows his eyes as he scans the page. “ _Calling out to you that never replies,_ ” he reads monotonously,  _“—with only the sound of echoes coming back_.”

Chanyeol purses his lips and shrugs.

“That does apply to me, though,” Kyungsoo ponders. “I always ignore you when you call out my name several hundred times each night,” he comments acerbically.

“Kyungsoo-yah!” Chanyeol mimics himself, albeit exaggerating slightly as he calls out Kyungsoo’s name. “But no, really. Have a listen to it. I really wish you could sing this song. I just—,” he says, before he closes his eyes and sighs. “I just think you’d be perfect for it.”

\--

Kyungsoo is used to being alone – without the risk of being lonely. He meets people regularly – and spends just enough time with them to fill his socializing quota, and usually he’s contented by that. He has friends and family, but he never tells them how he really feels – probably because he doesn’t know it himself. He figures that everyone else has their own problems, and his worries and fears are too insignificant to be considered _important._

Now, though – things have changed.

He feels as though he has spent too much time with Chanyeol; too many interactions that feel  _intimate_  – and he’s worried that he’s delved far in too deep; lost in the false sense of Chanyeol’s security. They do silly things like singing together and playing Nintendo – and at one point Chanyeol even stayed awake with Kyungsoo until the early hours of the morning writing songs. The worse part of spending time with Chanyeol is the intervals of silence – because where Kyungsoo used to loath having periods of awkward silences in conversations with people, it comes naturally with Chanyeol. Despite this Kyungsoo still feels comfortable, without having the constant pressure of making small talk.

Even when they do talk – Kyungsoo has never talked so much, or opened up to anyone as much as he did with Chanyeol. He tells Chanyeol about his job at the site, about his pots, about his thesis – about Korea’s history and culture, and Chanyeol listens like he actually cares. In return, he learns that Chanyeol’s guitar was his dad’s 20th birthday present and he never lets anyone touch it, that his ex-girlfriend gave him the moniker ‘happy virus’ and the name sticks, that he’s currently having trouble asking a girl out because he thinks he will never be good enough for her.

“Why would you think that?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Because she’s unattainable. I can sense that she has high standards. I’m just a waiter, working at my mom’s restaurant. A speckle of dust. Writing songs and performing them on stage – that’s the only thing I could offer her. I have nothing else to give.”

“Is she the inspiration for the song?” Kyungsoo coaxes. “Tell Me What Is Love?”

Chanyeol sniffles, before brushing invisible dust off his trousers— hesitating. “Most of the new songs, actually. Not just that one song,” he replies melancholically.

Kyungsoo places a hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder and squeezes it gently. “Oh, someone’s in love. She must be  _something_  if she manages to make you all mellow like this,” Kyungsoo teases – although something akin to pain is gnawing at his own heart.

“You have no idea,” Chanyeol replies, straight into Kyungsoo’s eyes.

So when Kyungsoo sings  _Tell Me What Is Love_  for the first time, he sings it from the bottom of his heart. He sings it like he means it, the way Chanyeol has wanted him to sing it. The longing; the yearning. The endless waiting. The inevitable truth that  _nothing_ will happen.

The cycle repeats itself.

Chanyeol doesn’t look him in the eye for the rest of the day.

\--

Kyungsoo leaves Seoul for another two months, to resume his work at the excavation site. He returns every fortnight, just to catch up with Baekhyun and Jongin, and Chanyeol will be there too. He is more reserved – still loud and obnoxious, but less so. Kyungsoo has become less uptight, and lets Chanyeol put his arm around his shoulder without threatening to put Chanyeol in a chokehold in return. The movie nights are back on when Kyungsoo is in Seoul, and it is a routine for them to have sleepovers.

Boys being boys, sometimes they end up watching porn clips – but instead of getting turned on, they end up laughing at the ridiculous plotline and the terrible acting, without actually even watching the action.

Chanyeol continues to annoy Kyungsoo by calling his name endlessly, to the point that Kyungsoo brings out a plastic baseball bat to chase Chanyeol around with, but in the end Kyungsoo forgives Chanyeol anyway.

\--

On White Day, Kyungsoo asks Chanyeol if he has ever managed to ask the girl out.

“Which girl?” Chanyeol asks in confusion.

“The girl you wrote the song for?”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says, before pursing his lips and shakes his head morosely, as if in defeat. “Didn’t work out.”

“If she rejects you because of your status, she probably doesn’t deserve you,” Kyungsoo says.

“Oh no,” Chanyeol shakes his head again and smiles wryly. “She deserves everything in the world. The sun, the moon, the stars. I just chickened out, that’s all.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t imagine the confident, happy-go-lucky Chanyeol ever backing out in front of a girl. “Why?”

“I just thought I’d rather spend White Day with people that I  _really_  care about, you know?”

Kyungsoo harrumphs. “Right.”

“Like you, for instance.”

Kyungsoo nearly chokes on his own saliva. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not even kidding,” Chanyeol says. “Look what I got,” he scrambles for his leather jacket, before shoving his hand in one of the pockets in search of something. When he finally pulls it out, Kyungsoo gapes in shock.

“You bought rings. Are you proposing to somebody?”

“No,” Chanyeol rolls his eyes as he pulls the rings out of the box.

“What are those squiggly lines?” Kyungsoo points curiously.

Chanyeol explains that they are soundwave rings, with the voices of its owners translated as soundwaves and etched on each band. “How romantic,” Kyungsoo furrows his brows, “—but who are you giving these to?”

“One for me,” he picks a ring, “—and one for you,” he says as he holds Kyungsoo’s hand and places the other ring in the middle of Kyungsoo’s opened palm. “It’s your voice and mine,” he says. “I used our recorded voices and sent them to the manufacturer. Cool, eh?”

“Uhm,” Kyungsoo gulps.

Chanyeol blinks. “What?”

“Why?”

“Because— our voices mesh well together. I just thought this is a nice idea.”

Kyungsoo wants to ask a thousand questions, but his tongue fails him. Chanyeol looks at him as though he is a dumb child – and doesn’t offer any more explanation than that. Eventually, the only question he asks is, “What was it that we said on the recording? Of all the things that you picked out?”

“It’s a line from a song that we sang together.”

“What was the line that we were singing, then?”

Chanyeol looks away sheepishly, and then says that he can’t remember. He proceeds to wear it nonchalantly on his ring finger, before laughing at Kyungsoo because his ring doesn’t fit. “Oi,” Kyungsoo slaps Chanyeol’s shoulder with the back of his hand, “—who was it that bought the rings without consulting me and checking the size of my finger?”

“C’mon,” Chanyeol says, before taking the band off Kyungsoo’s ring finger, and gently puts it on Kyungsoo’s forefinger, instead. It’s a perfect fit. “We’re soundwave buddies, now,” he says, but he still hasn’t let go of Kyungsoo’s hand.

Kyungsoo pulls his hand away and slaps Chanyeol’s shoulder again. “Why do you keep getting me stuff? I don’t think I’ve ever given you anything in return! Now I feel so—,” he grits his teeth and grimaces, “—burdened!”

“You bought me a giraffe plushie,” Chanyeol jokes. “I don’t need anything else. Just your company,” he says – before he swallows heavily and looks away. “Because I can’t really imagine what would happen if one day when we grow older and we just drift apart – I don’t want to really live like that.”

_Drift apart._

All Kyungsoo’s life, that’s what he does. He has never really kept in touch with his old friends from primary school, and he’s not the type of person to go online and stalk people on Facebook. He lets himself drift apart, and see where life takes him. Even when other people  _try_  to care – he pushes them away, not letting them get too close – because he fears that one day, something like this would happen.

_Someone like Chanyeol._

Kyungsoo has never really thought about it – about how he would feel if Chanyeol is not around anymore. Kyungsoo always tells himself that Chanyeol is annoying. That Chanyeol keeps invading his personal space. All the touching, the hugging, the high-fives, the fist-bumps. Maybe Kyungsoo will be glad that he won’t have to do them anymore if Chanyeol leaves. But then the ghost of Chanyeol will linger under Kyungsoo’s skin – like a phantom invading his memories, and that’s even worse. He will be back to being Kyungsoo – grumpy old misanthropic Kyungsoo,

And now, Kyungsoo fears. If this were to end one day he wouldn’t be able to cope, even if he continues to put on a blank face to hide how he feels. Because they’ve shared so much.

_Is this what true friendships are like?_

Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol that he’s just wasting his time being friends with him – because Kyungsoo will never be as positive and outgoing as Chanyeol. Because Kyungsoo is selfish and will never give as much in return, will never give his all. By logic they shouldn’t have even hung out together from the start, given their massive differences.  Had they met at school, Kyungsoo would have totally hated Chanyeol. They would have been mingling with different cliques. Chanyeol would’ve hated Kyungsoo, too.

“C’est le temps que tu as perdu pour ta rose qui fait ta rose si importante,” Chanyeol placates Kyungsoo.  _It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important._  It’s another quote from The Little Prince – and Kyungsoo recognizes it immediately. “I don’t mind hanging out with you. I don’t mind wasting time for you at all,” Chanyeol says, as he pulls Kyungsoo into another backhug. “Because I enjoy every minute of it. So don’t worry.”

\--

Kyungsoo figures, that the least he could do for Chanyeol is to watch him rap at Epsilon. When he pitches this idea to Chanyeol, he looks absolutely delighted for one second, before his expression changes to one of worry. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Remember what happened at my birthday party?”

“No, I’m sure that I want to do this. I really want to watch you live. On stage. Just being in your atmosphere. I’ve seen everything but you on stage, where you rightly belong.”

“The crowd can be really loud, though.”

“What’s the worst that could happen, right? Getting trampled to death by the audience?” Kyungsoo jokes.

Chanyeol’s brow furrow, his eyes narrowing as he appears to give this some thought. Kyungsoo narrows his eyes back at Chanyeol quizzically, before Chanyeol claps his hands gleefully as he comes up with a plan. “You know what? I can’t believe I’ve never thought about this before,” he says with an excited grin.

“What?”

“I can let you watch from backstage!”

Kyungsoo huffs. “Will they allow that?”

“You’re my manager, remember?” Chanyeol says as he looks down at Kyungsoo, gripping the younger man’s shoulders firmly.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo tuts, “—so I’m your manager when it’s convenient for you?”

Chanyeol shakes his head, as his hands travel up to rest at Kyungsoo’s nape. “No,” he says. “—when it’s convenient for  _you._ ”

\--

Kyungsoo watches, and he is entranced.

Chanyeol’s commanding presence on stage is unlike anything he has seen before. The performance at the kids’ birthday party doesn’t count. That was tame. This, with the strobe lights shining upon Chanyeol’s face, the sweat on his forehead, the energy – and his voice – Kyungsoo doesn’t even realize that he has been holding his breath, or how tightly he is gripping the edge of his seat, or how his toes have curled up in his shoes. Chanyeol looks like he’s participating in a fight – when another rapper challenges him and he replies with a clever retort, looming over his competitor with his towering height. His voice booms out through the mic, lashing back with a sick beat and rhyme. The crowd goes wild – but Kyungsoo’s heartbeat thumps wilder.

“How did I do?” Chanyeol asks when he exits the stage, grinning as he takes off his snapback and runs a hand in his hair.

“You were g-great,” Kyungsoo replies with a stutter – and he doesn’t elaborate on that, because effectively, he is speechless.

_You were amazing, you look good, and I don’t understand why you’re still ‘struggling’ when you could have been so much more. You’re really good, Chanyeol. I know you know that already, but I wish you’d believe in it more._

He wishes he could say those words to Chanyeol, but the older man is already being approached by several other rappers who had shared the stage before him, so Kyungsoo sits back near the curtains and waits until Chanyeol comes back.

“So you’re Chanyeollie’s manager, eh?” a pot-bellied man in his early forties, balding and sweaty, comes along and speaks to Kyungsoo. He learns that the man is the organiser of the event, and holds half the share of the club.

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, before nodding slightly. “It’s about time that kid does something about pushing his career forward,” the man says. “He’s one of the best guys that have ever performed here.”

Kyungsoo blinks and continues playing along with this 'manager' charade.

“I’ve just got one of the talent scouts in the audience tonight, who asks about him. He gave me his business card – thought I’d give it to you and see if you want to let Chanyeol know about it,” the man continues, as Kyungsoo keeps mum. “He seems keen about signing Chanyeol on, but he’s going to come again in the next couple of weeks to see if Chanyeol really is what he’s looking for.”

Kyungsoo picks up the business card and reads it, before purses his lips into a little smile.

\--

They take the train afterwards, back from Gangnam to Chanyeol’s place. It’s late, and there were only the two of them in the carriage. “There’s someone from a talent agency who wants to see you perform again in the next couple of weeks,” Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol.

“Really?”

“Yep,” Kyungsoo says, and hands him the business card.

“Are you my lucky charm? I’ve never had this sort of thing before.  _Ever!_  And then you turned up and suddenly a talent scout says he wants to see me again?”

“Maybe I am,” Kyungsoo snorts.

“Did he say when?”

“Nope.”

Chanyeol grins and leaps forward to hug Kyungsoo, before Kyungsoo steps back and holds up a hand at Chanyeol’s chest to stop him. “A bro-hug,” Kyungsoo says, before Chanyeol chuckles and grips Kyungsoo’s hand, before bumping their shoulders together.

“This is awesome!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Kyungsoo says – and watches every curl of Chanyeol’s smile, the obvious enthusiasm and joy that glows from him. He leans back on his seat, and watches the Seoul city lights go by as the train continues to move along its tracks. Chanyeol has fallen silent beside him. Kyungsoo turns his head to look at Chanyeol, and discovers that he is staring at Kyungsoo’s hand where he wears the soundwave ring.

“Thank you, Kyungsoo.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Another moment of silence passes, before Chanyeol sighs and fiddles with his ring. “How are you, Kyungsoo?” he asks, suddenly. He doesn’t even look up at Kyungsoo as he says the words – he merely stares at his lap; at the band on his ring finger.

“It’s 12.30 a.m., we’ve spent most of the night together and you’re only asking me that now?” Kyungsoo asks in confusion.

Chanyeol shrugs. “It feels like it’s been a while since you talked about yourself. How’s your thesis going?”

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, and lets out a nervous laugh. “Wow. Hmm, what a random question, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol tells him that he genuinely wants to know, and Kyungsoo explains that it’s due in the next fortnight but he couldn’t look at it anymore without feeling nauseous. “I’ve read through the final draft so many times that all the words; all the paragraphs blur into one big blob,” Kyungsoo says. Chanyeol tilts his head and snorts.

“I also have a presentation to do a week after that, and they’ll grade me on that too,” Kyungsoo says.

Chanyeol asks if Kyungsoo is nervous, but he tells Chanyeol that he tries not to think about it. “I’m not an expert in Joseon era antiquities, but you can practice in front of me if you want,” Chanyeol offers. He throws an arm around Kyungsoo – like it’s the most natural thing to do, while his other free hand automatically reaches for Kyungsoo’s.

“Of course,” Kyungsoo sighs as he squeezes Chanyeol’s hand. “Because you’re a master of capturing audience attention.”

“I’m not kidding, Kyungsoo. Sometimes I think you don’t talk much, but you have so many thoughts in here,” Chanyeol says, pointing at Kyungsoo’s head. “I just wish I know what you’re thinking sometimes, you know? You work too hard and you never let me know if you’re okay.” Kyungsoo nods, and mumbles a quiet ‘I’m okay,’ before Chanyeol traces soothing, circular patterns on Kyungsoo’s open palm. They align their hands, before linking their fingers together.

 _I’m okay,_  Kyungsoo thinks.  _I’m happy. I’m sitting in a stinking train carriage at 12.30 a.m., I’m tired and groggy, it’s past my bedtime – but I’m happy._

He must have said his thoughts out loud, because Chanyeol rests his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder and says, “I’m happy too.”

Kyungsoo squeezes Chanyeol's hand, and thinks, 'Y _ou're an idiot, Chanyeol.'_

\--

The next few weeks pass in a blur. Kyungsoo thinks he might have been transformed into a zombie, given the deadlines he has to meet – and the preparation for the presentation which will determine if he will pass the Masters degree. And then there’s the conditional offer from the National Museum that if he gets his degree, he will get the permanent job as a junior curator at the Joseon department.

Plus, there’s  _Chanyeol._

Chanyeol has finally met the ‘talent scout’ at Epsilon after one of his performances – who turns out to be a music producer that happened to be at the club having social drinks, on the night Kyungsoo watched Chanyeol perform. He has become such a huge fan of Chanyeol that he decided to turn up two weeks later, and has asked Chanyeol to have a formal meeting with the music executives at his company.

It’s not even an offer to be a trainee at an entertainment company.

It’s probably going to be a straight-up deal to write songs and make records.

And Chanyeol couldn’t stop smiling and talking about it, for at least one week.

He couldn’t stop telling everyone that Kyungsoo is his Maneki-neko, his one-thousand paper cranes; his  _lucky charm_  – because Kyungsoo was  _there_ when Chanyeol was discovered.

He couldn’t stop telling everyone about Kyungsoo.

\--

There are nights when Chanyeol stays over at Kyungsoo’s place, listening to his presentation and offers tiny improvements to it, and Kyungsoo appreciates that Chanyeol cares. He appreciates that Chanyeol makes the effort to offer constructive criticism, because he honestly has expected Chanyeol to not give a damn. To offer empty promises without sticking to them.

Kyungsoo should know better by now.

Others notice, too. Jongin and Baekhyun, especially. Two weeks ago Baekhyun has raised an eyebrow when he sees the rings on Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s fingers, but he doesn’t say anything. Yesterday, he finally relents and bursts into a half-concerned, half-disbelieving remark when he discovers that Chanyeol has been sleeping over at Kyungsoo’s flat and vice-versa – outwith the weekend movie nights they have. “You guys even share a bed,” he says. “Sharing. A. Bed,” he enunciates the three words as if he couldn’t make them any clearer, “—like a married couple. And you have couple rings. Is there something going on between you two?”

Chanyeol shares a telepathic glance with Kyungsoo, before both of them replies in unison with a firm but lackadaisical, “No.” 

Baekhyun shakes his head in frustration and says, “If there is something going on between you two and I’m the last to know, I swear to God I will personally drag you both into a pit and murder you guys myself.”

\--

Their lucky streaks don’t end there.

Kyungsoo finds out that he has passed his Masters degree, which automatically means that he also has a job – and the first person he calls isn’t even his parents.

Chanyeol screams loudly into the phone receiver when Kyungsoo tells him the good news, and arrives at Kyungsoo’s flat in record time to take him out for a celebration. That night, Chanyeol books a table for two at a fancy steakhouse and brings Kyungsoo out for dinner. He jokes that usually he’s the one serving tables, but tonight he wants to be the one being served, because it’s a special occasion.

And Chanyeol is serious, despite his endless string of humour. He’s bought a new shirt and suit, and shined his brogues. He’s gone for a haircut and gelled them upwards instead of his usual floppy fringe, explaining to Kyungsoo that it’s a trial run before he attends Kyungsoo’s graduation. “I don’t want to look like a loser at your graduation, what with other graduates and their families there. The worst thing that could happen is to have a college dropout dressed in a crumpled t-shirt and ripped jeans when everyone else looks smart and  _important_.”

“Is that what you’re worried about, Chanyeol? That you’re a college dropout and everyone’s going to look down on you?”

Chanyeol purses his lips, shrugs and gives a coy smile.

“Who’s the one who is going to end up becoming an international superstar and have everyone swooning at his feet?”

“You don’t know that. I might screw up at the formal meeting with the execs,” Chanyeol sighs, before he gulps down his wine in one shot. “Or maybe I’m not ready for things to change.”

“Don’t think about that yet. Let’s focus on the  _now_. So maybe we’re going to be sad later. So what? Doesn’t mean that we can’t be happy now, right?”

Chanyeol chuckles and narrows his eyes, before pouring more wine into his glass. “Three months ago you wouldn’t have said that, Kyungsoo. I would’ve been the one to say that to you,” he adds. “And you wouldn’t have believed me. You would have called me an idiot.”

Kyungsoo scrunches his nose as he refills his own glass. “I saw the light, probably.”

“Was it me?”

“What?” Kyungsoo asks, placing the wine bottle back onto the table. “The light?”

Chanyeol nods mischievously, a sly smirk etched on his lips.

“So what if it  _was_  you,” Kyungsoo begins, “—you vain, narcissistic oversized, giraffe-like Yoda?” he teases, before they break into a huge laughter. “Are you going to start wearing light bulbs all-over your clothes now?”

“Nah,” Chanyeol smiles as he swirls his glass. “Good to know, that’s all.”

 _My light,_ Kyungsoo thinks.  _When you smile like that, you’re like the sun of my days. The moon and the stars of my nights._   _You’re going to end up swallowing me whole, and I don’t want to fall back into the abyss where I came from._

_Will you still be my light then?_

“By the way, Chanyeol – you’re still an idiot,” Kyungsoo says, swallowing his own wine and looks away as he gulps. Trying to push his current thought processes away. Trying to focus on anything  _but_  Chanyeol.  The cars that pass by, the waiters, other patrons at the restaurant.

“Good to know,” Chanyeol says.

His voice always pulls Kyungsoo back, like gravity.

\--

It is at Kyungsoo’s graduation day that Chanyeol panics, because Kyungsoo has taken off the soundwave ring. “What happened to your ring?” he asks, when he notices Kyungsoo’s bare fingers. Of all the things that he would comment on. Not the ridiculous silk robe, not the hat – but Kyungsoo’s ring.

Kyungsoo tells him to relax. “I’m wearing it around my neck,” he says, before pulling a silver chain that has been hidden beneath his collared shirt, revealing a silver band attached around it. “See?” he raises an eyebrow and bites at the metal, before shoving it down his collar again. “You worry too much.”

Chanyeol only gives him a puppy-eyed look.

Kyungsoo punches his shoulder in return.

Chanyeol lets him.

\--

When the ceremony ends, everyone disperses for photo sessions around the graduation hall area – and Chanyeol finally meets Kyungsoo’s family. Needless to say, they are easily charmed by Chanyeol – as people always do. He’s polite but witty, and it’s easy to see that Kyungsoo’s brother actually gets along well with Chanyeol. Too well, in fact, that by the end of a ten minute conversation Chanyeol has managed to convince him to come to Epsilon to watch Chanyeol perform.

“But he doesn’t to go clubs!” Kyungsoo whispers in horror, as he pulls Chanyeol aside.

“Well,” Chanyeol shrugs, “—he does now.”

“He’s just being polite,” Kyungsoo retorts.

“Or maybe, he’s genuinely interested. Come on, Kyungsoo. I can’t believe that your family is so –,” Chanyeol pauses, struggling to find the right word.

“ _Normal_?” Kyungsoo offers.

“I was looking for a better word than that. Not that you’re  _abnormal_ , of course. They’re so—pleasant and chatty and not—  _broody._ ”

“Unlike me.”

“Unlike you,” Chanyeol agrees, “—but you’re still my favourite member of the Do family.”

“Wait until you meet my grandma,” Kyungsoo replies with a smirk.

\--

After Kyungsoo has posed for various photos with his family, someone taps at his shoulder. Kyungsoo turns around – only to look down to find a kneeling Chanyeol, who is offering him a bouquet of flowers.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kyungsoo shrieks. “And where did you even get the flowers from?”

Chanyeol merely shrugs.

_This is embarrassing._

Kyungsoo blushes hard, before waving Chanyeol away – and ignores him.

 _You’re an idiot,_  Kyungsoo thinks, before Chanyeol grabs his arm and hits him playfully with the flowers. “Did you just  _reject_ me?” he asks impishly.

“If you really want to court me, you could do better than that, Park Chanyeol-sshi,” Kyungsoo says nonchalantly, and it’s not like he  _wants_  Chanyeol to court him.  

“Come on; just accept the flowers for the photos. It’s your graduation after all.”

“Just for the photos,” Kyungsoo says, before grabbing the flowers and hitting Chanyeol back with them.

\--

The positivity lasts for a week. With the peaks come the troughs, and Kyungsoo is crashing from the high.

Chanyeol is worried that Kyungsoo is regressing – because everything is happening too fast. And now, without the pressure of thesis and exams and job-seeking on Kyungsoo’s mind, he has more time to ruminate about everything else.

About life.

About Chanyeol.

There are times when he clutches his shirt; his chest – just to check if the ring is still on the necklace. Chanyeol stops bugging him about not wearing the ring after a week, after Kyungsoo explains that he will have to take it off anyway if he is called up for excavation work.

Kyungsoo is happy for Chanyeol – about his upcoming meeting with the music executives, about how it’s potentially going to change his life forever. He’s not going to be Park Chanyeol, the college dropout who waits tables by day and writes songs by night. He’s going to be Park Chanyeol, successful singer-songwriter-slash-rapper. He’s going to go places – meet new people.

New, beautiful, important people.

And Kyungsoo thinks, that this – the fist-bumps, the bro-hugs, the late-night butchering of love songs and silly carwashes – it will end soon. Chanyeol will leave, as everyone always does – and Kyungsoo will be on his own again. He could already imagine that Chanyeol will promise to keep in touch, to keep annoying him with text messages, and Chanyeol will tell him that his fears are unfounded.

Kyungsoo doesn’t hold high expectations, although the little glimmer of hope hurts.

It hurts because it makes him believe that  _this_  will last.

\--

He pulls off the ring from the chain on his neck, and decides to wear it on his finger again.

 _While it lasts,_ he thinks.

\--

This is the moment of truth for Chanyeol. All his life – all the sleepless nights he has spent writing songs in his notepad; his nails splintered from strumming his guitar to find the right chords – they are all for this moment. An hour before Chanyeol’s meeting with the music producers— and for the first time in Kyungsoo’s life, he witnesses Chanyeol having a breakdown. But even then, Chanyeol is still smiling – despite the turmoil in his mind; in his heart.

“This is weird—,” Chanyeol says breathlessly, as he prowls from one end of the room to the other, looking restless. He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, before pushing them back down again, his tie hanging loose around his neck, opening and closing his fists as he licks his lips anxiously. “I’m actually sweating. And I’m feeling nauseous.”

Kyungsoo watches him from the end of the bed, and only manages to say, “Don’t vomit,” which earns a huge – but visibly nervous laughter from Chanyeol. “No, seriously. Whatever you do, don’t throw up in there,” Kyungsoo says as he rummages inside his pocket. “Here, I’ve got anti-emetics,” he tells Chanyeol, as he hands him a small box of Stemetil.

Chanyeol takes the box – and their hands touch, for a split second. His fingers are cold as ice. Kyungsoo winces.

“I’m scared, Kyungsoo. What if they don’t like me? What if they see me and they realize that I’m just— not what they’re looking for?”

Kyungsoo stands up immediately and shakes his head. “Chanyeol—,” he begins, shushing the taller man, placing his hands on Chanyeol’s cheeks and smoothing the hair that has fallen on Chanyeol’s forehead. “Chanyeol, it’s okay. Do what you’ve always done. Think of it as Epsilon. Think of it as something you’ve done countless times before,” Kyungsoo says, calming Chanyeol as he brushes the pads of his thumbs over Chanyeol’s cheekbones.

“Okay,” Chanyeol nods, shuddering. “Okay.”

Kyungsoo runs his hands downwards and lets them rest on Chanyeol’s chest, tugging slightly at the tie that hangs on Chanyeol’s neck. “Do you need a hand with this?”

“I’m okay,” Chanyeol says, as he attempts to knot the necktie, but his hands shake so much that Kyungsoo pulls them away gently – “Here, lemme do this for you,” he says, aware that Chanyeol’s attention is now solely focused on him. He could feel Chanyeol’s breath on his forehead as he helps Chanyeol with the necktie – and it’s awkward, because although he does  _know_  how to tie a tie, he realizes that he has never done it from the front, and definitely not for someone else.

“Turn around,” Kyungsoo orders – and Chanyeol does so as Kyungsoo climbs on the bed, standing at least a head taller than Chanyeol, watching their reflections on the mirror. “I’m going to help you this way,” Kyungsoo says, as his arms move around Chanyeol’s neck from behind, his nimble fingers work deftly with twisting and knotting the tie. “You’re taller than me for the first time,” Chanyeol grins as Kyungsoo tightens the knot up to Chanyeol’s shirt collar. Kyungsoo rests his hands on Chanyeol’s shoulder and gives them a gentle squeeze. They lock gazes in the mirror, but Kyungsoo stays silent. “Also, this is the closest you’ve ever been to giving me back hug without choking me,” Chanyeol says.

Kyungsoo sighs, before bending slightly and wraps his arms around Chanyeol, his chest firmly pressed against Chanyeol’s back – but without the intention of putting him in a chokehold. “There. A backhug. Happy now?” Kyungsoo says softly against Chanyeol’s ears, before smiling at Chanyeol’s reflection in the mirror.

“Do you want a piggy back ride?” Chanyeol asks.

Kyungsoo ponders about this for a second, considers saying ‘no’ before he relents. “Just to lift me off the bed,” he tells Chanyeol.

“Hold on to me,” Chanyeol says. “Tight,” he adds, his deep voice cracking.

It’s a short ride. It’s enough to carry Kyungsoo off the bed and onto the floor, where Chanyeol is once again, the taller of the two. “You’ll do great, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says, as he smoothes down Chanyeol’s tie. The warmth of Chanyeol’s gaze pricks his skin, and he’s unable to look up at him.

“Where have you gone to?” Chanyeol asks.

“Hmm—what?” Kyungsoo says, looking up.

“Where have you flown off to?’’ Chanyeol repeats the question, pointing to Kyungsoo’s head. “Your mind is off somewhere I can’t reach.”

Kyungsoo fiddles with his ring. The question comes out of his mouth even before he could stop himself.

“Chanyeol, what are we?”

“We’re…humans?”

Kyungsoo facepalms. “No—I mean, what are we doing? What are you doing? With me?”

“I’m trying to be friends with you.”

“Friends don’t wear couple rings. Not like this,” he holds his hand up.

“It’s just a joke. You can think of it as friendship rings if you want to.”

Kyungsoo glances sharply at Chanyeol. “Is everything a joke to you?”

_This is such a wrong time to burst, but then again I’ve always been horrible with timing._

Chanyeol’s grin fades instantaneously. “Where is this coming from, now?

“From the day we met – it’s difficult to know if you ever take anything seriously. And Baekhyun tells me—,” Kyungsoo begins, before Chanyeol cuts him off abruptly. “What did he tell you now?” he asks. Ominously.

“He says that you do this all the time. You say that you’re in love with a girl, but it’s almost pathological that you end up clinging to one of your mates instead – when your relationships don’t work out. And Baekhyun – no, not just him, but Jongin too – they say that you’ll impulsively rebound to one of us – for a couple of weeks, before latching on to someone new. Have they ever told you this? Or have you realized this yourself?”

Chanyeol’s brows furrow. His mouth goes agape, but he is unable to verbalise his thoughts. “But I’ve not latched on to someone new. I’ve stayed with you,” he eventually says.

“I know. It’s been  _months_  with me. Even when you were writing songs for that girl – you still cling on to me. What are you doing with me, Chanyeol? What are you doing  _to_  me? Why can’t you just let me be? I’m sorry – if I’m reading into this too much, and maybe you genuinely don’t think much about this at all – but why can’t you just – stay away from me?”

“Do you want me to stay away from you?”

“ _I’ve_  been trying to stay away from you.”

Chanyeol’s voice is quiet. “I didn’t realize.”

“That’s because you could be absolutely thick sometimes. I’m a loner, Chanyeol. I’m a happy loner. I’m content with the way I am. I like –  _quiet._  And suddenly you just barge into my life and ruined everything.”

“How did you end up being friends with Baekhyun, then?”

“How did I end up being friends with you? The point is – you  _annoy_  me. You invade my personal space even when I try to shut it down. A piece of you still gets left inside, and it’s frustrating because I can’t kick you out of my life.”

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol mutters. “Do you really hate me that much?”

Kyungsoo laughs – but it’s not out of joy. “I don’t hate you. It’s come to a point where I don’t even know what to feel about you.”

“Please don’t say  _indifference._  Because it’s a worse feeling than hate.”

“It’s not indifference, Chanyeol. It’s not hate either,” Kyungsoo shakes his head.

_It’s not love. Or is it?_

There is a long pause, before Chanyeol finally speaks. “Do you want to know how I feel?”

Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows.

“I’m scared,” Chanyeol confesses.

 “What are you scared of?”

_“Loneliness.”_

Kyungsoo doesn’t see that coming.

“I have so many friends. Acquaintances. They’re all amazing. I cherish them dearly – but then, that’s the difference between you and me. You tell me that you admire me because I can get along with people so well. The truth is it’s because I have to. Because I can’t imagine myself being alone. Being lonely. And I—,” Chanyeol pauses, “—I admire you because you’re strong, that you could do things on your own, that you don’t have to depend on anyone. You depend on  _you_.”

“It’s not a weakness, Chanyeol. You draw your strengths from people. From your surroundings. I draw my strengths from peace and quiet. It’s okay. And I think – I’m not afraid of being alone. I’m not afraid of not being surrounded by people. I need to talk to people – sometimes – intimately. Meaningful conversations with people who value me. I can’t do small talk. It feels superficial – for me.”

“I can’t do quiet. It suffocates me,” Chanyeol whispers.

Kyungsoo wants to ask Chanyeol,  _‘then why do you keep bothering me?’_  – but Chanyeol opens his mouth first – and his words stun Kyungsoo into another silence.

“Until  _you._ ”

“You could choose so many other people. Why me?”

Chanyeol refuses to give a reply. Instead he poses another question. “Are you tired of me, Kyungsoo? Do you think our friendship – or whatever this is that we share – do you think that it’s only superficial?”

Kyungsoo closes his eyes – trying to force himself not to cry, because he doesn’t know whether he wants Chanyeol to stay or leave. So Kyungsoo shakes his head, instead – and sniffles. “You’re the one who keeps giving me the extra energy to go on, even when I think I can’t anymore.”

“You have no idea how true that is for me, too. I just—never told you. Because you’re going to think that I’m an idiot.” Kyungsoo tries not to notice the hitch in Chanyeol’s breath as he says, “I have to go now. Please wait for me.”

“I’ll wait here,” Kyungsoo replies, as Chanyeol leaves and the door closes with a click. He tries not to think of the repercussions of the conversation they just had, or what it means.

He just needs to be patient – and wait.

_I’ll wait here for you._

\--

Two hours later, Chanyeol eventually calls and screams into the phone saying that they want him in their company. Kyungsoo’s eardrums might have been damaged given the loudness of Chanyeol’s voice, but it is difficult not to share Chanyeol’s enthusiasm. Kyungsoo could imagine Chanyeol jumping up and down the streets of Seoul, probably hugging everybody that happens to be in his way.

When Chanyeol returns home, he nearly tumbles Kyungsoo onto the floor with a fierce hug as soon as Kyungsoo answers the door. Kyungsoo doesn’t realize it at first – and it is only moments later that he feels wet tears staining his skin when he realizes that Chanyeol is crying. “I can’t believe that I’m doing this. I don’t even know what I’m going to be doing, but I’ll be doing it,” he says, between each sob – interspersed with small laughter of relief and disbelief.

He pulls away, his eyes brimming red – and asks, “What if I want this so much only to be really crap at it? What if this is the wrong move for me? What if I’m going to regret this later? I’ve never had a real job apart from working at my mom’s restaurant before. This— this is a big deal for me, and a big break, with a major record label – they want my songs! But what if my songs are crap?”

“Chanyeol—listen. You’re doing it again. You’re second-guessing yourself again,” Kyungsoo says, gritting his teeth. “I know you’ll do great. You think I know better because I have a stable job. That’s not true. You have no idea how little I know about anything. I don’t know what I’m doing. Most of the time I’m just winging it. That’s the philosophy of my life.  _Winging it,_ ” Kyungsoo says, tugging slightly at the tips of Chanyeol’s ears. He wipes a tear that has trailed down Chanyeol’s cheek, watches Chanyeol’s damp eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings as he blinks. “Remember  _Billionaire_? It’s  _your_  dream. It’s happening, right now.”

Chanyeol loosens his tie and unbuttons his top collar, before wiping his tears with the back of his hands. He stands up to wash his face at the kitchen sink – splashing water all over the front of his shirt and his hair, but he has gone past caring. “How are you so calm at a time like this?” Chanyeol asks as he turns to look at Kyungsoo – his eyes glazed with worry and confusion and probably admiration.

“Because, Park Chanyeol, you are a big fuzzy ball of sunshine and you annoy me to no ends sometimes, but what you don’t realize is how much I believe in you. You’ve shone the light on me. You’ve infected me with the happy virus. Now it’s time for you to spread your brightness and happiness around.” Kyungsoo purses his lips and smiles, before taking Chanyeol’s calloused, cold hands in his warm ones, and squeezes the pads of Chanyeol’s fingers with his own. Chanyeol spreads his hand and widens the spaces between his fingers, so that Kyungsoo’s fingers and his intertwine – and clasps them together. “I’m sorry about our conversation earlier – I’m just— confused, and— I should have waited for a better time—,” Kyungsoo begins, before he realizes that Chanyeol is watching him – with an expression that is difficult to decipher.

He notices, though, that Chanyeol has begun to breathe slower; deeper. Kyungsoo slides his free hand up Chanyeol’s spine, up to Chanyeol’s nape, and tiptoes to try and put his entire arm around Chanyeol. Chanyeol has no choice but to bend down and returns Kyungsoo’s embrace. Unlike their first hug in Chanyeol’s mother’s restaurant a year ago, neither does Chanyeol fiercely hug Kyungsoo, nor does Kyungsoo attempt to push Chanyeol away.

It’s the first time in what felt like centuries – that Kyungsoo is doing all the talking.

“Do you remember when I freaked out in your mom’s restaurant and you hugged me?” Kyungsoo asks, whispering against Chanyeol’s ear, Chanyeol’s warm cheek against his.

“Yeah.”

“I was going to break into pieces, but you kept me together,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m returning the favour,” Kyungsoo murmurs, before pulling away to gaze at Chanyeol’s face. It is probably the first time he has seen it  _this_  close – and he could see the healed scars from last year’s pub brawl on Chanyeol’s forehead, on his temple. He traces them with his fingers, and he notices how Chanyeol’s breath hitches as he does so.

“Kyungsoo—,” Chanyeol growls – as if giving Kyungsoo a warning, but his hold around Kyungsoo’s waist tightens. “I think I even lifted you up off your feet at some point,” he says, but there is no hint of humour in his voice.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo nods gently.

“I’m going to do it again if it’s okay with you,” Chanyeol says, before letting go of Kyungsoo completely. He stands merely inches apart from Kyungsoo, a head taller, his fingers now trailing up and down Kyungsoo’s arm. He waits in anticipation of Kyungsoo’s reply – and Kyungsoo is confused at what Chanyeol is attempting to do, so he nods.

In a split second Chanyeol lifts Kyungsoo off the ground by his waist, before placing Kyungsoo up on the kitchen countertop. Chanyeol spreads Kyungsoo’s thighs and stands between Kyungsoo’s knees, one hand at Kyungsoo’s back and the other caressing the shell of Kyungsoo’s ear. From this point where Kyungsoo is sitting and Chanyeol is standing, they are almost at the same eye-level.

Chanyeol is  _scared._

Kyungsoo knows this, because Chanyeol doesn’t dare to take the next step. He breathes in, out; watches Kyungsoo like a hawk waiting on its prey. But he couldn’t move, frozen until Kyungsoo gives him the permission to. His fingers run up and down Kyungsoo’s spine, the other trails down Kyungsoo’s long, pale column of throat.

In the end, Kyungsoo is the one who makes the first move.

He tugs at Chanyeol’s tie, causing the older man to let out a soft yelp, drawing Chanyeol closer towards him. And then, he presses his lips against Chanyeol’s – square and chaste, for a mere second, before pulling away with a soft kiss sound. “Hit me. Slap me,” Kyungsoo says, breaking the silence between them. “Wake me up from this dream,” he continues, before Chanyeol silences him with a deeper kiss, this time coaxing his lips open and traces Kyungsoo’s bottom lip with his tongue.

It’s a messy kiss; wet and wanton, and at some point someone lets out a deep sigh of yearning; and Chanyeol grows bolder. He slides a hand under Kyungsoo’s shirt, his calloused palm against the soft skin of Kyungsoo’s back, before moving to Kyungsoo’s chest, and thumbs Kyungsoo’s nipple. Kyungsoo groans – and nearly kicks Chanyeol at the surprise, but it’s a welcome surprise.

Chanyeol pulls away, his lips swollen and bruised and glistening with saliva, and Kyungsoo wipes it with his thumb. Chanyeol sucks slightly at the pad of Kyungsoo’s thumb, before letting it go with a pop. “I’m not going to hit you, Kyungsoo – because I guarantee you that this isn’t a dream,” he says with a deep register, his eyelids drooping. 

Instead, he kisses Kyungsoo again, gentler; deeper.

_Sweeter._

\--

Later, Chanyeol will tell him that he first admired Kyungsoo for his voice. “But then, I begin to love your little quirks, when you get flustered, when you bite your bottom lip and stare blankly at me when you’re confused. I like you – I’ve always liked you from the start, when you huff and puff at me at the hospital, when you let me take you out for breakfast the first morning we properly met after I was sober, when I caught you tapping your feet to my horrendous singing,” Chanyeol says. “But I think – I realize that I’m in love with you when I saw you digging at your Pororo cake –  _no_ , when you were delighted that there was a Pororo cake at the kids’ birthday party. And your entire face just lit up,” he says, with a grin. “I started off wanting to make it up to you for vomiting in your car. I then found out that the more I spend time with you, the more I want to be friends with you. I ended up wanting more than that, but I don’t have the guts to say it – but I could show it with the little ways that I could. And all the songs I wrote, it’s all for you. It’s about  _you._ ”

“You’re gonna be successful with your songs,” Kyungsoo says. “You’re gonna go places. You’re gonna fly so high—,” he says, before Chanyeol cuts him off.

“I’m not going to go anywhere without you.”

Kyungsoo squeezes Chanyeol’s hand. “Don’t be silly.”

“Yes, I’ll fly. But you keep me grounded, Kyungsoo.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Kyungsoo says, before nuzzling his forehead against Chanyeol’s chest. “The main reason why I keep looking forward to life; the sun to my days, the moon and stars to my nights – it’s you. All my life – all my days pass by in a daze; colourless. I’m living but I’m hollow. And then you came, and you vomited in my car and I resented you for that. I resented you for annoying the hell out of me when you tried to apologize, and I resented the fact that you came to my house uninvited that morning we went for breakfast for the first time. I resented your incessant, petty questions about my life and I wish you would just— shut— up.”

“What changed? What—,” Chanyeol begins, as a quizzical eyebrow shoots up.

“You cared,” Kyungsoo replies promptly. “You—  _care._  And I realize that as much I resent most things – I actually like you. When you turn up with breakfast and coffee and sing and play your guitar – I ask myself what have I done to deserve this? Because you were such a great friend and I could never repay all the things you’ve done, for the happiness you’ve given me. And I used to go home after work, with nothing to look forward to. But now I have you. And then— it hit me. I  _love_  you. I love  _you,”_  Kyungsoo says, and he feels relieved. There’s no more clarity any more than this. He sees the path, and he’s taking it. No regrets. Even if tears are falling down on his face, he’s never been happier than  _now._

So it’s now or never. If he doesn’t say what he thinks; how he feels  _now,_  he will never do it.

_I will never tell him how much I love him if I don’t tell him now._

“And you know what?” Kyungsoo asks, as he lets out a deep sigh, but with a soft smile on his face. “I was washing the dishes at my own birthday party when I realized that I love you. After you argued that The Little Prince is still alive, still laughing—and I was standing there, at the kitchen sink, the taste of that Pororo cake still on my tongue – and you stood behind me and I knew it was you. And I loved you then. And you held me and I felt loved. Then again maybe I’ve always loved you. When we shared a futon at your flat and you held me at 3 a.m., when you sang at the kids’ birthday party, when you bought takoyaki for me. When you persuaded me to sing  _Billionaire_  with you, when you washed my car for the first time.”

And sometimes Kyungsoo wonders what would have happened if he hasn’t returned Jongin’s call on that fateful Saturday morning, at 3 a.m. Or if he had refused to answer the door when Chanyeol came to apologize.

Or if Chanyeol hasn’t vomited in his car.

_Would any of this have happened, then?_

But at this moment, Kyungsoo refuses to believe that an alternate universe would exist— where they haven’t found each other.

At this moment, Kyungsoo is with Chanyeol, and that is all that matters.

\--

They’ve shared most things. They’ve shared their songs, their deepest secrets. Their thoughts.

Chanyeol doesn’t pressure Kyungsoo into thinking that he wants to share any more than that – not if Kyungsoo isn’t ready. But where Chanyeol is cautious, Kyungsoo is the one who keeps pushing the boundaries. He steals a kiss in the kitchen when others are in the living room, and Chanyeol joyfully reminds him that Baekhyun will personally kill them if he catches them – but Kyungsoo merely shrugs and smiles blissfully. He kisses Chanyeol again, putting his arms around Chanyeol’s neck as Chanyeol slides his arm around Kyungsoo’s back – and maybe pats his bum in a cheeky way – before parting just as they hear voices outside the kitchen, only to have Jongin and Sehun turn up at the door.

_That was close._

From kissing Chanyeol, Kyungsoo learns many things – like the taste of his peach chapstick, and why he prefers peach over cherry. They were clumsy kisses initially – but learning is part of the process, and Kyungsoo enjoys learning. He learns the smooth crevices of Chanyeol’s mouth and the sharp ridges of Chanyeol’s teeth against his tongue, the taste of Chanyeol’s cold cookie crumble frappucino combined with his own warm salted caramel latte. He learns the warmth of Chanyeol’s skin under his fingertips, and how they burn underneath his touch; the shape of Chanyeol’s scars without even looking at them. Kyungsoo learns and he remembers.

Chanyeol brings him to his family home where he grows up, when his mother is out working— with the sole intention of showing Kyungsoo who he was, and how much he has changed since he met Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo laughs when he sees Chanyeol’s framed childhood photos sitting atop the piano, and tells Chanyeol that he should have bought Chanyeol a toy ferret.  Kyungsoo asks if Chanyeol has been classically trained in piano, and Chanyeol replies that he only managed to reach the fourth grade before quitting, because he likes to do his own thing; to defy convention.

_Why am I not surprised?_

Kyungsoo witnesses the progression of the chubby spectacled boy into his teenage years, and chuckles quietly as Chanyeol shows him the photos when he started hitting puberty. “Oh, that was a phase. With zits and questionable fashion choices,” Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo. He’s far in too deep to not show Kyungsoo his old collection of notepads of song and rap lyrics that he has written throughout his teenage years, of his arrogance and naivety, of his previous loves and friends whom he has lost contact with.

They sit like that for hours at the piano; reminiscing of things past but excited about what the future would hold – before Kyungsoo requests that Chanyeol play him something ‘nice’. Chanyeol purses his lips and ponders for a moment, before he starts playing the opening chords to Nothing Better – before pausing just before someone is supposed to sing the first line, expecting Kyungsoo to sing along.

But Kyungsoo is transfixed. He stares at Chanyeol, and it hits him that he has never been in love until Chanyeol. And at this moment, his feelings have trebled, probably quadrupled – as Chanyeol’s fingers glides upon the ivory like a beautiful dancer. Kyungsoo admires Chanyeol’s concentration as he plays – which is shortly thwarted when Chanyeol misses a note just to wake Kyungsoo from his daze. “I’ve been repeating the intro three times, Kyungsoo. I’m playing this song for you,” he says. “Sing for me. Don’t say no. Say yes. Please?”

And Kyungsoo does.

Chanyeol repeats the intro again, but Kyungsoo couldn’t suppress a giggle because he keeps stealing glances up at Kyungsoo even as he plays. Kyungsoo closes his eyes to immerse himself in the music, and takes a deep breath before he starts singing.

 _“_ _It always appeared before me_  
 _Your face, I remember_  
My heart that stopped short  
You spitefully took my dysfunctional heart  
And with your bright smile  
That's how you easily opened my heart.”

And it’s true. Every single word of the song is true, and judging from the sudden solemnity that Chanyeol exudes – Kyungsoo knows that Chanyeol feels it too.

 _“It's true, that is how I became your man_  
 _All my unpleasant memories, I no longer recall_  
Because the hand that holds me tight  
is as warm as spring.”

Chanyeol doesn’t stop playing – but he has completely switched his gaze from the piano keys to Kyungsoo, as if Kyungsoo is the center of his universe; as if everything he does starting from this moment is for Kyungsoo.

 _“And now like breathing,_  
 _if you were to always rest by my side_  
if you were to always remain this way  
nothing better, nothing better than you.”

Chanyeol misses another note – and stops playing altogether.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kyungsoo asks, but Chanyeol doesn’t reply. “That’s the second time you slipped, Chanyeol,” he points out – before Chanyeol shakes his head and lets out a shuddering sigh. Kyungsoo shifts away to give Chanyeol some space, and is about to stand up when a warm hand clasps his wrist – strong, but not enough to bruise.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo warns, his deep voice cracking.

But even then, he could physically see the tendrils of anticipation floating in the air, thrumming in his veins. He’s drawn to Chanyeol even before Chanyeol could pull him by his hip, slip his hand underneath Kyungsoo’s shirt, sliding it along the small of Kyungsoo’s back. “I want—,” he says, breathing heavily, his other hand clenching up in a fist. “I want—,” he begins again, but he falters, his gaze not quite meeting Kyungsoo’s. “You,” he finally says, “— _now._  But I’m not willing to take what you’ve not prepared to give,” he exhales.

“No one’s home,” Kyungsoo whispers, placing a hand over Chanyeol’s knee – his fingers trailing up Chanyeol’s thigh, before he realizes that Chanyeol is already half-hard in his jeans. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

It happens all too quickly – and Kyungsoo finds himself being kissed; as if he had an inexplicable emptiness in his heart, Chanyeol’s kiss would make him whole again. Chanyeol lifts him up in his arms, only to set him down on the piano – the loud, jarring clangs of keys reverberating throughout the whole house. Chanyeol kisses his jaw, down to the tendons on his neck, his collarbone. Their fingers fumble with each other’s buttons, desperately trying to undo their belts and jeans, before Chanyeol manages to slip a hand down his waistband and Kyungsoo takes a sharp – but satisfying breath.

Kyungsoo has never touched himself – but at this point, it doesn’t matter that Chanyeol is touching him. He wants this. He wants this as much as Chanyeol does, and wants to return the favour simultaneously. Chanyeol steps out of his jeans and Kyungsoo reaches out to trace the veins on Chanyeol’s cock, almost in fascination. Hazy with desire, he thinks that he has become cross-eyed when Chanyeol starts moving his hand up and down Kyungsoo’s own cock – and Kyungsoo stops trying altogether, his hands limp, his head lolling back before resting it on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “That feels so—good,” Kyungsoo manages to say breathlessly.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” Chanyeol says between strokes, but Kyungsoo shakes his head and clutches one arm around Chanyeol’s neck, while his other hand grips the varnished edges of the piano as if his life depends on it. And with each tiny movement that he makes, the piano clangs with each key that he accidentally hits. He pushes Chanyeol away for one moment which makes the older man appear confused, before Kyungsoo bites his lips and pushes both his jeans and underwear down. First to his knees, then letting them pool at his ankles, then stepping out of them – leaving only his shirt and socks on. He turns around only to put the piano hood down, before leaning against the varnished, polished wood, right in the center – his face etched with want, his cock leaking against his stomach – and he watches the look on Chanyeol’s face as he takes everything in.

Chanyeol steps closer – his face flushed with desire – and slides his hands up Kyungsoo’s thighs, before squeezing his bum. He stands right in between Kyungsoo’s knees and holds their erections together, while Kyungsoo lifts his legs to draw Chanyeol closer, his heels digging into Chanyeol’s thighs, below the curve of his buttocks. Their foreheads pressed together, they start kissing each other again as Chanyeol begins to stroke – upwards; downwards, while Kyungsoo whispers broken sentences of encouragement in Chanyeol’s ears. Their grunts and groans echo each other in the room, interspersed with the sounds of Chanyeol’s slick movements.

“Fuck—Kyungsoo—fuck,” Chanyeol says as he pulls away for breath, his eyes closed tight in ecstasy, lashes fluttering as he opens his eyes to look at Kyungsoo – “I can’t— I’m coming,” he blurts in half-sentences, and Kyungsoo feels that his is building up as well. Chanyeol bites at his earlobe, and Kyungsoo clutches at Chanyeol’s shirt only to feel Chanyeol’s heart thumping wildly against his hand. Kyungsoo’s own heart swells up in his throat, his pulse skidding up as he reaches the climax – and he lets out a chuckle when he realizes that they have come together.

They end up slumping against each other, Chanyeol’s hand sticky and glistening – and he is about to wipe it on his own shirt before Kyungsoo takes his hand and licks some of it off his fingers. The salty tang on his tongue isn’t particularly unpleasant, but he has been curious. “That was—,” Chanyeol begins – before his lips curl into a smile. “Not what you thought it might be?” Kyungsoo asks, before licking his lips demurely. He is painfully aware that he is still half naked from the bottom down, but so is Chanyeol – and Kyungsoo is strangely fine with this.

“It wasn’t what I thought it would be, yes,” Chanyeol agrees. “It was better than what I thought it would be. I would forego porn forever if I could do it with you again,” Chanyeol says – which earns a huge laughter from Kyungsoo.

“How romantic, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says when he manages to catch his breath back.

“I’m not even being funny right now, Kyungsoo. And I’m saying this because I’ve never done that with anyone else but you.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrow shoots upwards. “With all your swag? And your previous string of lovers?”

Chanyeol shrugs abashedly. “I may look like I know stuff. I do know stuff. I just – you – I’ve never. Until you. You changed – everything. I want to be— I want to be good for you. But I thought you should know.”

“Know what?”

“I haven’t— I’m a virgin,” Chanyeol says. “Not just with guys. With—girls, too.”

“Then how did you learn to kiss—,” Kyungsoo pauses, “– to do— _that?_ ”

“We’re both guys, Kyungsoo. I just thought I’d do what I usually liked – and tried it on you – and hope that you’ll like it too.” Chanyeol turns beetroot red as he speaks, fiddling with the collar of his plaid shirt.

Kyungsoo rubs his face, trying to hide a smile – before deciding to run his hand through Chanyeol’s hair and tugs at his ears. He leans down for a soft kiss, before pulling away and says, “Then we’ll have to learn together, won’t we? Maybe the rated stuff we watched had some use after all,” he says with a wink, and takes Chanyeol in his hand, thumbing the head of his cock – causing the older man to take a sharp breath.

The look on Chanyeol’s face when Kyungsoo kneels down is priceless. Tentatively, Kyungsoo licks the tip of Chanyeol’s cock, which gradually becomes harder as he pumps his fist down the shaft. Chanyeol lets out a moan when Kyungsoo’s tongue twirls around the head, before putting his hand behind Kyungsoo’s head – encouraging Kyungsoo to move faster, but not pushing Kyungsoo or making him uncomfortable. “Your mouth—Kyungsoo, fuck, I wish you know how beautiful you are,” Chanyeol hisses as Kyungsoo starts to suck in earnest. Kyungsoo nearly gags when the tip of Chanyeol’s cock hits the back of his throat, but Chanyeol is kind. “You don’t have to deep throat me, Kyungsoo,” he says, half laughing and half groaning – but becomes silent when Kyungsoo begins tonguing at his slit, and uses his fist to pump Chanyeol from the base.

The familiar salty pre-cum taste hits Kyungsoo’s tongue, just before Chanyeol brings him upwards and kisses him, sharing the taste between themselves. “I don’t have a condom,” he says, “—but I’m sure we can still take this to bed. And we’ll figure something out,” Chanyeol adds.

They run upstairs to Chanyeol’s room, which he has rarely occupied since he moved into his own flat – where they stand in front of each other, suddenly in silence. The only sounds of their breathing and the birds chirping merrily outside – and Chanyeol begins by unbuttoning his own plaid shirt, one by own, slowly, before letting it fall on the floor. “Your turn,” he says. “I want to see you.”

Kyungsoo does as he is told; pulling the shirt over his head and throws it haphazardly at Chanyeol’s feet – as if to say ‘I’ve accepted your challenge’, – but not before he admires the entirety of Chanyeol’s physique – the well-toned muscles, the long limbs, the sinewy curves. Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo into his bed, where he asks Kyungsoo to bend on all fours. “I want to see you,” he repeats, trembling. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to –  _not_ use protection, I’m not going to—,” he says, before Kyungsoo moves into position – and gently says, “I trust you.”

“I love you, Kyungsoo. Even if we’re not doing this now – even if— you’d said no, I swear to God I love you.”

“And I might hit you with a baseball bat if you keep using that mouth for talking and not where I want it to be right now.”

Chanyeol makes a ridiculously cute face before bending down and kisses Kyungsoo, before grabbing a moisturising lotion from one of the drawers. Kyungsoo is aware of Chanyeol standing behind him, and tries to crane his neck to see what Chanyeol is about to do. He lets out a laugh when Chanyeol traces a finger down his spine and leaves a trail of kisses in its wake, before Chanyeol begins kneading his bottom with both hands. Kyungsoo has never felt so exposed in his life, and after Chanyeol’s confession that he doesn’t know what he’s doing – Kyungsoo should have backed out, he should have felt scared, he should have many reservations about this. Usually his mind would panic and try to tell him a million reasons why this shouldn’t work.

But he trusts Chanyeol.

Chanyeol spreads Kyungsoo’s cheeks and blows a warm breath to his entrance, causing Kyungsoo’s toes to curl. He clutches the sheets tight, and hears the sound of Chanyeol opening the moisturising bottle-cap. “Kyungsoo, I’m going to put a finger in – tell me if hurts, okay?”

“I’ll scream, probably,” Kyungsoo lets out a nervous chuckle. He shuts his eyes and grits his teeth when Chanyeol rubs gently at his entrance, the cool lotion against his skin, before Chanyeol increases the pressure and inserts a finger. “You okay?” he hears Chanyeol ask in concern from behind.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be,” Kyungsoo says with a shudder. Chanyeol twists his finger to find Kyungsoo’s prostate, curling his finger to find the spot – and immediately pulls out when Kyungsoo yelps. “Did I hurt you?”

The answer is no. In fact, Kyungsoo thinks he could see stars – “Do that again,” he begs, “Chanyeol, please.”

Chanyeol inserts his finger again and starts rubbing at the spot, changing the pressure each time, causing Kyungsoo to be overwhelmed by thousands of emotions – tears stinging his eyes, not because of pain but because of pleasure. He doesn’t even realize that he’s making mewling noises – which only intensifies when Chanyeol adds another finger – and Kyungsoo could vaguely hear him mutter, “Oh God, you’re so tight,” and starts repeating the same motions. Kyungsoo’s moans are muffled by the pillow, as Chanyeol alternates the speed at which his fingers are moving. Kyungsoo is hard – and Chanyeol uses his other hand to stroke Kyungsoo, pressing kisses at the bottom of his spine as he does so.

And when Kyungsoo spends his release, his limbs feel like jelly – but Chanyeol is there to hold him as he slumps on the bed. They stay like that, in each other’s arms for minutes, as Chanyeol lazily strokes his own heavy erection while Kyungsoo watches on with a heavy lidded gaze, before taken adrift to slumber.

He doesn’t even know if Chanyeol manages to come.

\--

Kyungsoo wakes up to find Chanyeol gone – not in the bedroom, but he finds himself carefully tucked in bed, with a blanket around him. Groggily, he finds a note by the bedside in Chanyeol’s ridiculous handwriting that he has gone out to get some food. Kyungsoo sits up and rubs his eyes, before realizing that he is stark naked underneath the duvet. He scans the floor to find the first clothing item he could wear, and grabs Chanyeol’s plaid shirt before putting the oversized shirt on and buttons them up.

It is late afternoon, now. He could still feel Chanyeol’s fingers inside him, and how it made him feel – and he realizes that maybe, he could live like this. He pulls the sleeves of the shirt up to his wrist and remembers that this is the same crumpled plaid shirt that he has seen Chanyeol wear, on the day he took him to crash the kids’ birthday party. He smells the fabric and chuckles. Although Chanyeol uses the same washing powder as Kyungsoo does, it still smells of Chanyeol – and it is strange that Kyungsoo should notice that. It’s the same with the duvet, with the pillows.

The length of the shirt is just enough to cover the juncture of his thighs – and Kyungsoo laughs to himself. When did he become so kinky? If he sits right it would be enough to cover the area of his groin – for instance, if he tucks his legs underneath him, sitting on his knees. He stares at his reflection in the mirror; the hickeys on his shoulder; his hair in disarray, his own swollen lips. He touches them with his fingers and tries to remember how Chanyeol’s lips have felt against him, and he smiles quietly.

He nearly jumps when the bedroom door opens, but it’s Chanyeol.

“I thought you were still sleeping,” Chanyeol says – taking off his snapback and ruffling his hair, before smiling nervously. Silence envelopes the room when neither refuses to talk – instead, Chanyeol merely gazes at Kyungsoo in his plaid shirt and leans against the door, his breathing visibly erratic.

“What?” Kyungsoo asks, but with a smile etched on the corners of his lips.

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol begins, his voice a deep register that Kyungsoo thinks shouldn’t even be legal, “—I don’t know what to say,” he ends the sentence with a disbelieving sigh. “It’s just that you— now— what—  _how?”_

“Park Chanyeol with nothing to say,” Kyungsoo smiles. “That’s a first, isn’t it?”

“Only you could turn me speechless, Kyungsoo.”

“C’mere, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo beckons, before biting his lower lip and closes his eyes because he couldn’t believe that he’d done that himself. A blush creeps up his neck, up to his face, and he couldn’t help suppressing a laugh and tries to look away when Chanyeol unbuttons the shirt with one hand, one by one, biding his time – while his other hand travels lower to Kyungsoo’s groin, where he is already half-hard.

“Aren’t you hungry? I thought you went out for food?” Kyungsoo asks.

“At the risk of you punching me,” Chanyeol says, “—at this moment I just want to eat you up.”

Chanyeol hisses when Kyungsoo reaches up and cups him through his jeans – and the older man lets out a shuddering sigh. “I might as well forgive you, because I want to eat you up too,” Kyungsoo says, before Chanyeol bends down to kiss him.

\--

They keep hiding the truth from everyone, because they fear what the repercussions would be. Would their friendships be destroyed, or would they stay as strong? In reality, the dynamics haven’t changed despite Kyungsoo and Chanyeol admitting their feelings for each other, because they still argue like cats and dogs only to make up two minutes later – and Kyungsoo still threatens to put Chanyeol in a chokehold. Chanyeol still calls out Kyungsoo’s name endlessly when they do sleepovers at Baekhyun’s place –

They are still Chanyeol and Kyungsoo;  _soulmates,_  according to Baekhyun.

_Soulmates._

Even if they do know, they haven’t said anything.

Despite the dangers of getting caught, Kyungsoo still corners Chanyeol just to tease him, because despite Chanyeol being the extrovert, Kyungsoo is the master of conspiracy and clandestine trysts. Just because he’s known to be the pinnacle of decency and sweetness, doesn’t mean that he couldn’t turn wild once in a while. As retaliation, Chanyeol ends up giving a quiet handjob to Kyungsoo in the kitchen when the others are watching a film in the living room, and Kyungsoo responds by giving a blowjob when Chanyeol is on the phone to Baekhyun.

But fun and games can’t last forever.

Kyungsoo has thought long and hard about it – and Chanyeol agrees that at some point – they have to tell people about the actual status of their relationship. They’ve been putting it off for so long because of their worries – only to find out that they are completely unfounded.

“And here we were sitting wondering when you’re going to announce that you’re officially seeing each other,” Baekhyun says in faux fury, crossing his arms and tapping his feet when Chanyeol finally has the guts to tells him. “I thought we were best mates, man? How long have you been seeing each other?”

“A month,” Kyungsoo replies, only to be surprised by Sehun who appears out of nowhere, and says, “Really? We all thought you’ve been dating for longer than that!”

“Both of you are clotpoles, that’s what you are,” Baekhyun says. “But I’m happy. I’m not angry—  I’m just— wow,” he says, before he starts laughing in hysterics. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol stares at him as if he’s gone mad. “I’m—,” Baekhyun begins when he has managed to stop laughing, “—phew. So when are you getting married, then?”

“What?” Chanyeol and Kyungsoo squeaks in unison.

“Oh well. Just make sure that I’m invited to the wedding. No,” Baekhyun retracts his statement. “Make sure that I’m your best man, Chanyeol. And Jongin can be Kyungsoo’s.”

Sehun appears dumbfounded. “But what about me, hyung?”

\--

It is Jongin who clears his mind, in the end. “Yes, Chanyeol is in his own world when he’s with Baekhyun, when he’s with Sehun. Yes, you’re in your own world when you’re with me,” Jongin tells Kyungsoo. “But when you and Chanyeol are together – it’s a whole new world altogether. We all knew something was going to happen. Not on the day you met him, obviously. We thought you were going to strangle him to death. But you changed, Kyungsoo. You’re a lot happier. A lot healthier, too.”

“He has that effect on people,” Kyungsoo smiles wryly. “He’s the happy virus after all.”

Jongin shakes his head. “You think that he was the one who has changed you in so many ways. What you don’t realize is how much you’ve changed Chanyeol’s life, too. You help him find a purpose.”

Kyungsoo’s gaze shoots up. “What do you mean?”

Jongin smiles. “Why don’t you ask him?”

\--

Three months.

Three months are how long it takes for Chanyeol to produce songs and have them recorded as a professional musician. Three months are how long it takes for Kyungsoo and Chanyeol to go flat-hunting, since they have decided to move in together.

Three months are how long it takes for Kyungsoo to find out what Jongin has been hinting at.

Coincidentally, it is also the day that Chanyeol’s song first hits the airwaves. It has been a stressful morning, with Chanyeol pacing up and down the flat wondering how the song would be received, and what the reviews would say. By noon Chanyeol gets hundreds and thousands of text messages and phone calls saying that the song is going to be a major hit.

By that night, Chanyeol finds out that the song has slayed all the Korean charts.

He doesn’t scream or shout or laugh or hug everyone in the room in excitement as Kyungsoo thought he would have done. Instead, at the moment Chanyeol learns of the news, he merely turns to face Kyungsoo and pulls him in an embrace, before kissing Kyungsoo squarely on the lips. “Thank you,” he says – his cheeks wet from tears – of joy, and kisses Kyungsoo again.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Kyungsoo will never forget the look on Chanyeol’s face when he says the words.

It’s as if he has so many other things to say – but  _couldn’t._

\--

Later that night, away from the cheering crowds, he will tell Kyungsoo that he was a loser. That he was aimless, that life had no purpose for him. “Like a leaf in the wind I go wherever life takes me – but then came  _you._  When you turned up at the hospital at 3 a.m. for your friend, even if you tell everyone that you don’t want to. You never once ask for anything in return. Apart from when you asked for the parking and carwash fees, which were reasonable enough,” he chuckles. “When you hummed and tapped your feet without even noticing, and I enjoy watching you enjoy yourself. I feel happy when you’re happy, because by God I swear that your smile is beautiful. You get lost in your thoughts, when you’re looking at your pots and get so excited talking about them – and I wonder if you’ve ever felt like that about anyone. A  _person._ ”

Kyungsoo scrunches his nose, because he tries to rack his brain and he couldn’t think of anyone. He shakes his head in embarrassment.

“At that time, I thought— if you do find that  _someone_ ,  _she’s_  so lucky, you know?” Chanyeol says with a wry smile. “And you’re so smart – and you have a career path ahead of you, and what do I have?  _Nothing,”_ he spits bitterly. “And I’ve never felt so out of place when I was at your graduation, when you wore that majestic graduation robe and I was just in my cheap suit, and you were at the centre of everyone’s attention and I thought, you deserve it. You deserve every success that comes your way, and I love how you just threw your worries away and enjoyed every single moment of it. I love seeing how happy you were. I wish you knew how beautiful you are, in sadness or joy – and probably that’s why I want to hold you, because I want to comfort you. Because sometimes I think that you may be frayed – tired and almost broken on the inside, and I just want to keep you together.”

“You did, Chanyeol. You kept me sane,” Kyungsoo sniffles.

Chanyeol caresses the tip of Kyungsoo’s ear, smoothing the tendrils of hair that has fallen upon Kyungsoo’s forehead. “I look at you and you’re so determined when you’re onto something and you just won’t let it go – and I wish I could be more like that. So I work harder. You make me turn into a better person, Kyungsoo. You open up my world, widen my thoughts. Make me think; make me care about things other than myself. About things that happen in the world and whatever little thing I can do to make it a better place, too.”

“You’re flattering me too much,” Kyungsoo says – and he doesn’t know where to hide, not when Chanyeol is scrutinizing the effect of his words on Kyungsoo with each second that ticks by.

It doesn’t seem that Chanyeol is taking in what Kyungsoo is telling him – he seems distant, preoccupied with another matter, and it worries Kyungsoo. And yet, Chanyeol keeps talking and talking – a coping mechanism, Kyungsoo thinks, for when he feels jittery or nervous.

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol begins, clearing his throat as he holds both of Kyungsoo’s hands.

“Yes, Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo replies, warily.

“I love your face on that day – when I saw you properly for the first time at my surprise birthday party, when you were standing against the fridge with your eyes wide – and the kitchen smells like a mixture of kimchi and freshly baked cake, and there were flour dust on your hair. I love the expression on your face after I called your name several times, because at first you seem small and completely out of place, and yet I know that if you weren’t there – the whole night just isn’t complete. Whenever I’m with you, I’m at peace.”

Chanyeol’s hold on Kyungsoo’s hands tighten.

“And I was so devastated when you left the party without saying goodbye – when I’ve prepared that song for you, when I was so excited to share it with you. When you texted me the next morning about how busy you were – I felt like I was punched in the face – and it hurts more than the multiple jabs that you’ve physically thrown at me.”

“That was ages ago, Chanyeol. I’m— I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol shakes his head and swallows heavily. “You told me that you resented me, Kyungsoo. Well, I once read that life doesn’t always introduce you to the people you want to meet. Sometimes life puts you in touch with the people you need to meet – to help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you, and then, gradually strengthen you into the person you were meant to become,” Chanyeol says.

_Where are you going with this, Chanyeol?_

“I love you, Do Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol lets go of Kyungsoo’s hands. He kneels on one knee, and Kyungsoo begins to panic. It is reminiscent of their first carwash session, when Chanyeol clutched his hands and knelt and asked him to perform a duet at Epsilon. Those days were long gone, now. This, this something entirely different. And maybe he should have seen it coming. Maybe he should have been prepared.

Maybe, all the experiences he has shared with Chanyeol – from that first offer, to the rings, to the flowers – they have all lead up to this point. And maybe, he knows the answer to what Chanyeol is about to ask, even before he has asked it.

And then, Chanyeol pulls out a ring.

“Do Kyungsoo, my best friend, my soulmate, my love. Would you do me the honour of marrying me?"

\--

_to be continued..._


	2. part ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part is written from Chanyeol's perspective, before changing back to Kyungsoo's. If you haven't read 'and time yet for a hundred indecisions', this chapter won't make any sense. Also, trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, depression, mental health issues.

Chanyeol sits alone at the pew, his hands balled up into fists at his lap. The interior of the church is still the same as he remembers it, only it is empty, save for himself and the elderly lady with a child sitting a few rows in front of him. He stares at the altar, at the huge cross surrounded by candles, and he remembers standing there, in a smart suit and a smile on his face; he remembers waiting, he remembers being so happy, and that he would never be this happy again.

He closes his eyes and tries to stop himself from crying. He could still remember the music, and how his smile has widened when the church door opens and Kyungsoo steps inside, as everyone else in the audience watches Kyungsoo’s nervous smile dissipate, only to be replaced by one of adoration. Chanyeol remembers how Kyungsoo’s eyes have met his, as he walks up the aisle, all the way to the altar. He has never felt so much love, a surge of adoration building inside of him – and Kyungsoo has never looked so perfect, so beautiful as he did back then, with a bouquet of flowers in his hands and a blush on his cheeks.

Chanyeol’s palm opens up, his fingers trembling. He looks down, his eyes brimming with tears as he uses the knuckle of his thumb to wipe them away, as he forces himself to stop – that he shouldn’t let anyone know that he’s crying, as he suffers alone in silence. In the half light, the ring on his left hand glimmers, reminding him that he has not gone insane as everyone thought, even if no one else in the world will believe him.

In the past, Chanyeol has wondered how on earth he could be so lucky, to have been given the opportunity to meet Kyungsoo, to befriend him, to fall in love with him, to be loved by him. Chanyeol has believed himself the luckiest man in the world when Kyungsoo had said yes – when Kyungsoo agreed to marry him, the kid from the wrong side of the track, a bumbling tall idiot who has lived all his life smiling through each and every adversity, someone who had wanted to please everybody, no matter how difficult it would be. He remembers the shocked look on Kyungsoo’s face –the way his eyes widen when Chanyeol kneels on one knee, and how Kyungsoo had lunged forward and tackled him to the ground, showering him with plenty of kisses and many more tears, tears of joy, unlike the ones he is shedding at present.

“How long have you been—,” Kyungsoo had begun, but Chanyeol had cut him off mid-sentence.

“Forever,” Chanyeol had said. “I’ve been keeping this ring and I don’t know why but I feel like this is the right time,” he’d continued, and Kyungsoo had said yes.

And Kyungsoo had said _‘I do.’_

Chanyeol remembers every detail of every single moment, as if it had only happened yesterday. He remembers standing at the entrance of the church, as Baekhyun, Jongdae, his mother – everyone who was in attendance threw confetti at Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, as the wedding bells toll, as they share another kiss as a pair of newlyweds. He remembers his mother pulling Kyungsoo aside, and the expression on Kyungsoo’s face was of pure terror. “From a mother to another mother, let me tell you that she has done a brilliant job in raising you,” Chanyeol’s mom had said, and Kyungsoo literally didn’t know where to hide his face. She had hugged him tightly, and Chanyeol remembers trying hard to stifle a laugh.

They’ve all been there. They should have remembered Kyungsoo as well as Chanyeol does – only they don’t. Only that they’ve never met Kyungsoo – not in this lifetime.

They’ve never been here.

Chanyeol has never been here with Kyungsoo, because the wedding has never happened.

Because Kyungsoo doesn’t exist.

\--

Chanyeol had woken up that morning three months ago – expecting Kyungsoo to be by his side, but when he’d reached for him, Kyungsoo  wasn’t there. Chanyeol had opened his eyes and realized that he was in a different bedroom; that somehow felt familiar but _wrong_ in every sense of the word. It was as if he had been transported back in time, way before he met Kyungsoo – because he’d woken up in his old musty flat, but he’d looked at the calendar and the time and date was still of the present day. He checked his phone just to make sure that this wasn’t an early April Fool’s prank, and he almost believed that it was all an elaborate scheme by Baekhyun, when he couldn’t even find Kyungsoo’s number on his contacts list. Not even Kyungsoo’s text asking him to buy groceries from yesterday—and when he tried to dial Kyungsoo’s number from memory, there was only the monotonous female voice at the end of the line, saying _‘the number you have dialled is not in service.’_

He’d scrambled in panic, and he’d phoned Baekhyun and Junmyeon, he’d phoned his mom and his sister – who had all thought he’d had a breakdown, who’d thought that he’d gone crazy. They’d never heard of a Do Kyungsoo before, and Baekhyun had laughed out loud when Chanyeol told him that he was no longer working at his mom’s restaurant. His mother had initially thought he was joking when he explained that he has been working as a famous singer-songwriter in the other world, believing that it was still one of his high, unachievable aspirations – but their laughter quickly dissipated when they realized that Chanyeol’s belief was fixed and immovable, and he remembers seeing the flicker of fear in their eyes, he could almost hear the thoughts – _‘my son is crazy’_ , or _‘my friend is psychotic’_ , or _‘he needs help.’_

To them, this Park Chanyeol that they know has changed overnight – and Chanyeol didn’t even resist when Junmyeon dragged him to the hospital, for a brain scan and blood tests, for a full physical examination that revealed no abnormality.

He went back to work at Viva Polo days after that, back in his mother’s restaurants serving food to customers, and he didn’t know why he has started to tear up for absolutely no reason at all, much to the alarm of his mother and sister. Baekhyun literally had to drag him to see the doctor again, who then referred him to the mental health assessment service. Chanyeol ended up being questioned behind a desk by two bored-looking psychiatric nurses, with forced, fake empathy on their faces, and he couldn’t help being treated like some kind of a crime suspect. They were persistent in trying to convince him that Kyungsoo was just a figment of his imagination, that he had never met Kyungsoo at that hospital at three in the morning, had never vomited in Kyungsoo’s car. Baekhyun and Jongin felt like accomplices, when they affirmed that they had never known anyone by that name, had never been friends with Kyungsoo, had never introduced him to Chanyeol. It took Chanyeol a great resolve to stop himself from yelling, from hitting out at Baekhyun and Jongin, at those damned nurses sitting expressionlessly in front of him, pretending that they care, pretending that they would be able to help.

This was a battle Chanyeol was meant to lose from the beginning, because this world was never meant for him.

At the end of the assessment, Chanyeol was told that it was just an acute stress reaction, which will resolve with time and a good night’s sleep – but the pills he’d been told to take at night did nothing but numb his insides, dulling his senses. When the sleeping pills failed to work, Baekhyun dragged him to see an actual psychiatrist, who believed that he may have a severe depressive episode with psychotic features—but not before quizzing him on his alcohol intake, or any use of illicit drugs. Chanyeol felt offended by that, as if all creative minds need psychedelic drugs to work, and despite telling the doctor that he would never touch anything like that in a million years, he still felt the doctor’s scepticism from miles away. From just a sleeping pill to take at night, Chanyeol was given an antidepressant – which only made him feel worse; turning him into some kind of a generic zombie, straight out of _Dawn of the Dead_. He’d even said this to Baekhyun in an effort to exert humour, but his laughter only managed to carve out a deeper, darker hole in his heart– because despite his best attempts to act normal, he knew that this life was a lie. Judging from the glaze in Baekhyun’s eyes, Chanyeol thought Baekhyun must have realized that he wasn’t the _right_ Chanyeol either – that he was an impostor, only Baekhyun was too afraid to point this out—afraid that Chanyeol would snap, would crumble into pieces. He knew that his parents, his sister, his friends were trying to salvage him, trying to grab at any semblance of the old Park Chanyeol back – but Chanyeol knew that their efforts would be futile, because _I’m not your Park Chanyeol in the first place_ – and he was not a Park Chanyeol that could function without Do Kyungsoo by his side.  

He couldn’t go to work for at least a week after that, not when his stomach was coiling with dread each day, his motivation at an all-time low. He has thought about ditching the pills altogether, but Junmyeon and Jongdae visit him every day just to make sure that he would swallow them, as if he was a kid that can’t be trusted, as if they were really concerned about his well-being, about his welfare.

While off work, he visited the museum where he thought Kyungsoo would have worked, and asked if there was a junior curator by the name of Do Kyungsoo working there – but to no avail. He scanned the museum’s webpage looking for vacancies and wondered if Kyungsoo would put a job application in, but eventually, after weeks of fruitless search, Chanyeol gave up.

He went to the apartment site where he thought Kyungsoo and he would have lived, and failed to hold back more tears when he realized that the area still hasn’t been developed – that there was only an abandoned parking lot there, instead of their apartment building, instead of his _home._  

After several weeks of being on the highest dose of antidepressant possible, the psychiatrists were still convinced that Chanyeol was still unwell– because he was still adamant that Kyungsoo was real, that Kyungsoo had lived in his external world. They were quick to judge that Chanyeol continued to show lack of insight, before explaining that these memories of living with Kyungsoo was what is called _reduplicative amnesia_ , the feeling of living in parallel worlds at the same time, and kept repeating that Kyungsoo has never existed. They even suggested to Chanyeol that he could have been showing manic tendencies— of being over-elated and grandiose for even thinking that he could be married to Kyungsoo, for having a prosperous career as a successful songwriter instead of just a scum waiter in his mother’s restaurant, doubling as a failed underground rapper. They mistook Chanyeol’s friendliness and previous optimistic personality as a sign that he could have a bipolar disorder, that he had been hanging on a thread, that it had all been part of some prodromal illness that had been left untreated for so long.

One of them tried to psychoanalyse Chanyeol, before declaring that it probably could have stemmed from his failure to launch, from his failure to be independent from his immediate family members. It could have stemmed from jealousy towards his sister who was making a name for herself as a newscaster, while he continued to be a Nobody. He was started on more meds – an antipsychotic tablet that made him drowsy for most of the day, and a mood stabiliser that tasted metallic and made him tremulous. Different diagnoses had been thrown at him – and the only way not to get admitted to a hospital was to comply, to pretend that everything was fine, to pretend that Kyungsoo has never existed, that it was all in his head.

The meds probably would have worked if Chanyeol really had a mental illness. The only fault Chanyeol had was for being born in a parallel universe, before being unfairly thrown into another one. And yet he had to shut up and kept his thoughts to himself – and he’d stopped taking his meds because it slowed him down, to the point that he couldn’t even bring himself to get out of bed to care for himself, to fix food, to shower. His fingers were so tremulous he couldn’t even play his guitar, or write in his lyrics book. He couldn't even cry in sadness, in anger, in confusion, or in fear. 

He couldn’t do anything.

He had to hide the astrophysics textbooks from Jongdae and Jongin when they come to his flat to visit, had to hide the frantic notes, to show them that he was coping, that he was recovering. He couldn’t tell them that he was learning about alternate universes, because that would mean that he’s still unwell, it would mean that he needs to go to the hospital, take more meds.

At night, he thought about what Kyungsoo would be doing, if Kyungsoo would be searching for him. He wondered if Kyungsoo would cope. He wondered if Kyungsoo was well, and if the other Chanyeol would be looking after Kyungsoo.

He wondered if Kyungsoo would fall in love with the other Chanyeol.

He wondered if Kyungsoo would forget him.

There was a point in Chanyeol’s life when he started to think, _what’s the point in life if Kyungsoo is not here, if Kyungsoo doesn’t exist?_ He has thought about stockpiling his medications, but the kind of stuff he was being prescribed won’t finish the job. He has thought about overdosing on paracetamol, of crashing his car into a lorry, of jumping into the Han – before stopping himself, and chided himself for even having the thought in the first place. Even if the memories weren’t real, even if Kyungsoo doesn’t exist – it’s a selfish act, it only serves to taint the pure memories he has shared with Kyungsoo, even if no one else would believe him.

Even if Kyungsoo was no longer in love with him.

Even if Kyungsoo would forget him.

In repentance, Chanyeol ran to the church to pray for absolution.

\--

Chanyeol sits alone at the pew, his hands balled up into fists at his lap. The interior of the church is still the same as he remembers it, only it is empty, save for himself and the elderly lady with a child sitting a few rows in front of him. He stares at the altar, at the huge cross surrounded by candles, and he remembers standing there, in a smart suit and a smile on his face; he remembers waiting, he remembers being so happy, and that he would never be this happy again.

-

\--

\----

_“In this part of the story I am the one who_

_Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because_

_I love you,_

_Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.”_

_\--_

 

Kyungsoo has never thought that his life would turn out like this.

An impostor is living under his roof, and yet Kyungsoo couldn’t bring himself to kick him out, the likable bastard. He should have been angry when this Chanyeol doppelganger who claimed that he has never met Kyungsoo before, has never been married to Kyungsoo, dared to go through Chanyeol’s possessions and phoned Kyungsoo afterwards, confessing that he has watched the video Kyungsoo has compiled for Chanyeol’s birthday.

Instead, all he feels for this Chanyeol impostor is sympathy – for his loneliness, for his innocence.

Kyungsoo shouldn’t have offered to take him out, even if it’s to keep up appearances. He’s not _Kyungsoo’s Chanyeol_ , even if others can’t tell the difference. So why, _dear God why_ – does he have to act like one, when he has repeated so many times before that he’s not gay, that he’s never even contemplated being in love with a man before?

His cheeks had felt warm when Chanyeol – this fake Chanyeol, who had dared to look at him like that, had dared to barge in and try to steal his heart, had said that they would be soulmates, even in a different life, a different time, a different universe. And God, he misses Chanyeol so much – that he would do anything to convince himself that this Chanyeol who is standing in front of him is _his Chanyeol_ ; that he had uttered the question without consulting his mind, had asked this Chanyeol whether he would sleep in the same bed with Kyungsoo tonight.

Kyungsoo knows that this is bordering on unfaithful, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Not when he’s so close.

Not when this Chanyeol is so close to the real thing.

\--

He wakes up in the middle of the night with a jolt – remembering that he’s in bed with a stranger, and tries to calm himself, tries to remind himself that this man next to him is not Chanyeol, even if he looks like him, even if ninety six percent of his memories have been exactly similar to Kyungsoo’s Chanyeol.

Quietly, Kyungsoo slips out of bed and into Chanyeol’s study, where his musical instruments are kept, where the other Chanyeol has found the birthday video. Kyungsoo’s fingers tremble as they hover on a DVD, next to the birthday VCR. He doesn’t even have to read the label to know what it contains.

Switching the TV on, Kyungsoo sits cross-legged on the floor, in the middle of the room, and inserts the DVD into the player. He presses play.

It’s their wedding video.

It has only been a few years back, but they were so young back then, and so in love. He watches the perpetual smile on Chanyeol’s face – his Chanyeol, or rather, Chanyeol’s attempts to stop smiling. He looks blissful, the same kind of dumb smile that Kyungsoo has come to know and love. _‘For better or worse, ‘til death do us part,’_ they’d promised each other. Kyungsoo grits his teeth.

This is worse than death.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what this is.

Despite marriage, their relationship hasn’t changed – they are still best friends, and the best of lovers.  They still have impromptu carwash sessions together, which often end up being water hose wars, with the both of them getting wet and inappropriately turned on. He remembers Venice, the awkward gondola rides as the gondolier starts to serenade them with Italian love songs that they couldn’t understand, but appreciates nonetheless. He remembers the tiny kisses they have shared by the canals, and how Chanyeol was never parted with his trusted camera, recording every memory, as if he never wants to let go, as if he never wants to forget.

Kyungsoo remembers building snowmen in early January, remembers the excitement in Chanyeol’s eyes when he stumbles upon a gelato shop somewhere in Barcelona and buys four different flavours of gelato in the middle of winter, before sharing them at a park nearby, not minding the cold weather one bit. Kyungsoo struggles to remember how it somehow ends up in an arm-wrestling match— that Chanyeol keeps on winning, try after try, but he fondly remembers Chanyeol’s gaiety, his joie-de-vivre, and how his happiness has affected Kyungsoo’s happiness, too.

He remembers strolling down the aisle of the supermarket, going grocery shopping together, with Chanyeol pushing the trolley enthusiastically, arguing over the best turkey they should get for dinner and completely forgetting to buy enough rosemary and thyme, as they prepare for their first Christmas together as husbands. The memories of knitting matching ugly Christmas jumpers by the fire, of wrapping presents together, of Chanyeol scrunching his nose at the sour taste of the cranberry sauce, of signing Christmas cards as _‘Kyungsoo and Chanyeol’_ , instead of _‘Kyungsoo’_ and _‘Chanyeol’._

He watches the video he has made for Chanyeol’s birthday – the one that the other Chanyeol has stumbled on accidentally, and remembers doing this, remembers waking up to Chanyeol doing a mock interview in bed, telling Chanyeol that he is his number one fan, that he would love him forever. He remembers lying in Chanyeol’s arms the night before, watching Jean Cocteau’s _La Belle et La Bete_ together. He remembers the day this was taken – on New Year’s Day, with Chanyeol barging in with his brand new video camera that Kyungsoo had bought for him – before blushing madly and excused himself, but Kyungsoo had tugged on the sleeve of his arm and asked him to stay.

_Stay._

Kyungsoo has no doubt that forever is impossible. He has no doubt that one day, one of them would have to leave the other first. They’re _humans,_ not _immortals,_ and humans don’t live forever. He has never thought that Chanyeol would leave like this. He has never thought that Chanyeol would leave an impostor in his wake, someone so similar and yet so different.

Kyungsoo pauses the screen on Chanyeol’s face; his heart aches as he gazes upon the twinkle in Chanyeol’s eyes, the mischief in his smile. He’s alone, in this room that is so quintessentially Chanyeol, with his guitars and drums and keyboards all around Kyungsoo, and he could imagine Chanyeol’s laughter, Chanyeol’s voice as he sings, when he asks Kyungsoo to sing along. The other Chanyeol is sleeping soundly outside, but _he’s not my Chanyeol, and never will be_ – and _how dare you, Chanyeol, to leave me like this?_ Before Kyungsoo knows it, he has started to sob, as he curls on the floor with Chanyeol’s lyrics notebook clutched in his hands. He rewinds the video and replays the way Chanyeol has stared up at the camera in adoration, the way Chanyeol has said his name. He touches the cold, flat screen before pulling his hand away in horror, as if chastising himself for stooping this low. He can’t give up – Chanyeol has to be alive somewhere, searching for him. And he can’t stop searching for Chanyeol, either.

Wiping his tears, he switches the TV off and quietly steps into the living room, where the other Chanyeol is sleeping. He studies the other Chanyeol’s peaceful expression, and realizes how young he looks, the hardships written on the lines of his face. The other Chanyeol, this Chanyeol – he’s suffered longer. He is lonelier, he’s still searching for a purpose. Judging from what he has told Kyungsoo, it doesn’t sound like Chanyeol is ever going to sign a record deal any time soon. He is talented, as talented as his own Chanyeol – and if anything, is as hardworking. In the other world, Epsilon doesn’t exist – but Chanyeol is an underground rapper just the same, only less sure of his talents. His Chanyeol’s career, meanwhile, had taken off – and from a compact two bedroom flat near Dangsan, they’ve managed to afford to live closer to Chanyeol’s headquarters, near Apgujeong. He remembers the day they moved in, carrying endless amount of boxes of their possessions, and Chanyeol carrying his guitars, his musical instruments, his computers. In the midst of all that mess, Chanyeol has whipped up his keyboard and started to play the first chords of John Legend’s _All of Me_ – and Kyungsoo couldn’t even help being stunned into silence by Chanyeol’s singing voice, by his sincerity. 

And that is Kyungsoo’s downfall.

Because this version of Chanyeol is similarly sincere, open and honest – and there is nowhere for Kyungsoo to hide, and it’s been too long.

Too long, and Kyungsoo misses Chanyeol so much.

When Chanyeol – this other Chanyeol who has invaded his home, his life, his heart – kisses him for the first time, Kyungsoo loses all reason.

Little does he know that he will lose everything, too.

\--

He doesn’t repeat the same mistake twice— Kyungsoo recognizes Chanyeol immediately when he returns, from the ring on his finger, the scars by his temple – only he has lost so much weight, and there is so much pain in his expression, unspoken horrors behind those dark, brown eyes. “You’re back!” Kyungsoo exclaims, before something twists in his gut – “You’re _back,_ ” he repeats numbly, realizing now that the other Chanyeol must have been transported back to the other world, and Kyungsoo gasps softly.

Chanyeol— _his Chanyeol_ – kneels at his feet, on the bed, where Kyungsoo lies naked as the day as he was born, and cries. Kyungsoo leans forward, touching Chanyeol’s hair gently, making sure that this isn’t another prank, another fucked up offering by the universe, before Chanyeol lifts his head and kisses him fiercely, cradling Kyungsoo’s naked body in his, warmth against warmth, repeating Kyungsoo’s name like a prayer.

Kyungsoo kisses him back, but it doesn’t take long for Chanyeol to figure out that something is wrong.

He watches Chanyeol’s gaze flicker back and forth between him and the bed – with the unmistakable smell of sex, lust, love; of last night – hovering in the air.

“You slept with him.”

“Chanyeol—,” Kyungsoo begins, but Chanyeol shuts him up with a stern voice and pulls away, as far from Kyungsoo as he could, as if Kyungsoo is a lowly vermin. “Did you sleep with him? With the other Chanyeol?”

Kyungsoo pulls up the cover to hide his nakedness, the bites and bruises from the other Chanyeol still freshly marked on his body. He couldn’t even lie – not when Chanyeol already knows. “Yes.”

Chanyeol’s accusatory stare feel like daggers on Kyungsoo’s flesh. “Why?”

“You can’t ask me something like that.”

_“Why?”_

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo raises his voice, “—you were gone for three months. I thought you weren’t ever going to come back!”

He could see the disappointment in Chanyeol’s eyes – and at that moment, Kyungsoo doesn’t understand, will never understand the things that Chanyeol has been through. It is only later that Chanyeol will explain to him, and Kyungsoo will cry, and ask for forgiveness, and although Chanyeol says that there is nothing to forgive, Kyungsoo knows he will never get the stain of sin off his hands. “Do you love him?” Chanyeol asks – and Kyungsoo knows that there is no point in lying, not when Chanyeol could see right through him.

“I do,” Kyungsoo nods. “I won’t lie. I love him.”

“More than me?”

It is Kyungsoo’s turn to snap. “How could you possibly ask something like that?”

“I suffered— so much,” Chanyeol says, trying hard to keep his tears from coming, but Kyungsoo recognizes the exact moment the dam is about to break, the exact moment the penny drops. “I tried looking for you,” Chanyeol continues, his breath uneven, as he begins to choke in sobs – and Kyungsoo is cruel, too cruel for not being able to comfort Chanyeol, although he wants to. But he is still too defensive, too angry at Chanyeol for insinuating that he has been unfaithful, that Kyungsoo could ever cheat on him. “They all thought I was crazy. They forced me to take meds that fry the neurons in your brain, because no one believed that you existed. I tried to look for you everywhere, but you weren’t there!” Chanyeol howls in agony.

“If you’d found me—,” Kyungsoo says, closing his eyes as tears begin spilling down his cheeks, to his chest, “Could you trust yourself not to fall in love with me?”

The question feels like a slap to Chanyeol’s face – because Kyungsoo could see the sudden confusion, the uncertainty. “I don’t know,” Chanyeol replies.

Kyungsoo climbs off the bed and stands in front of Chanyeol, giving little care for his own nakedness, and studies Chanyeol’s expression. “You tried to look for me. If you hadn’t been able to find your way back— if you had found me, or a version of me back there— would you have been happy to stay?”

A pause, then: “I don’t know.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head and laughs wryly, despite the heaviness in his chest, despite the tears clouding his vision. “You hesitated, Chanyeol. You _hesitated,_ and you don’t know. So don’t you dare judge me for falling in love with him, for another version of you, although I tried to hold out for so long, believing that you won’t come back to me.”

“Kyungsoo—,” Chanyeol begins, but Kyungsoo cuts him off mid-sentence.

“Is this how it’s going to end?” Kyungsoo asks cruelly. “He’s gone back and he’s not going to find me. Are you happy now, Chanyeol?”

\--

Chanyeol has stormed off – in fear, in confusion, in misery, after the confrontation with Kyungsoo. Neither of them expected this; that their long awaited reunion would be disastrous – and Kyungsoo thinks it’s his entire fault for losing his temper, for being extremely defensive, for falling in love with another Chanyeol in the first place. He feels that he has lost everything due to his greed, due to lust, due to wrath.

He has lost Chanyeol.

\--

Chanyeol doesn’t come home until much, much later – at three am the next morning. Kyungsoo couldn’t sleep – it’s the first time he’s ever been alone, not knowing if Chanyeol will ever come back for good. And although Kyungsoo thought that he’s the one in the wrong, it is Chanyeol who apologises first, the moment Kyungsoo opens the door.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo.”

“You idiot,” Kyungsoo says, and pulls him inside, before kissing him until they run out of breath, before undressing him and kissing each and every scar on Chanyeol’s body, tracing every rib, pondering at every pound of weight that Chanyeol has lost, thinking hard of how to heal him, to care for him, to make him whole again.

For Kyungsoo, it is like learning Chanyeol all over again, but this is a lesson he would be happy to learn, time after time, day after day, if it means that he could memorise every inch of Chanyeol, if it means he could taste every ridge, every curve. They move frantically, wild, impatient – not when Chanyeol has been waiting this long, not when he’s found what he has been looking for. It isn’t perfect, but it will be enough – and while Kyungsoo has never seen this side of Chanyeol before, it only makes him love Chanyeol more.

In the afterglow, Chanyeol asks him – “Did you know he wasn’t me?”

“I didn’t know at first,” Kyungsoo says, into the crook of Chanyeol’s arm – “—but it didn’t take long for me to realize. He doesn’t have your scars. He was awkward – like you were. He was like you. The old you,” he explains. “I kind of missed that part of you,” Kyungsoo says, which earns a snort from Chanyeol. “And he was so— confused, but he was kind. Eager to please. Eager to make things right. I was so scared that you were never coming back— and I miss you so damned much. And he was there, right there, reminding me so much of you. He was you. And the fucked up thing is he doesn’t even try to be you, because he is you.”

“He fell in love with you,” Chanyeol surmises. “Just like I fell in love with you.”

“It’s crazy and so fucked up. I dread to think what would happen to him now. If he’d go back and realize that I’m not going to be there.”

“Everyone thought I was crazy,” Chanyeol replies. “Fuck, I thought I’d gone crazy too.”

Kyungsoo looks up at Chanyeol, and couldn’t help but cry again when he sees the overwhelming sincerity and love in Chanyeol’s eyes, when he looks at him. “I’m sorry, Chanyeol.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol shakes his head. “You’re right. If I’d found you, I would have fallen in love with you, all over again. It would be difficult not to. I don’t—blame him for falling in love you. I could never blame you for loving him either. It’s so fucked up, but is it possible to be jealous of myself?”

“He’d asked me the same thing,” Kyungsoo chuckles wryly, before nudging Chanyeol hard, causing the taller man to groan. “Hey, Chanyeol?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you really can’t find me back there? I really don’t exist?”

The question causes Chanyeol to freeze. “You weren’t at the museum. This apartment – it doesn’t exist either. I don’t know how else to find you, unless if I hire a private investigator. And I can’t do that – not with my wages working with mom. And knowing you – you’re so difficult to track online. If he does exist, I don’t think I could find him online, either. I tried, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol sighs. “I found nothing.”

“Have you ever thought of the possibility that I was dead? Or was never born?”

“Don’t say something like that. Not now. I can’t—please, Kyungsoo. I can’t bear the thought of being away from you, ever again. I want to grow old with you. I want to kiss your wrinkles, the scrunch of your nose.”

Kyungsoo snickers softly. “Even if I go bald? Even if I have to wear incontinence pads?”

Chanyeol laughs out loud. “We’ll cross that bridge when it comes,” he says, before his countenance turns serious, in deep contemplation. “I feel so sad— for _him._ ”

“Do you think he’ll find a version of me, somehow?” Kyungsoo asks.

Chanyeol shrugs. “I feel as though he’s crying. As if I could feel him, here. As if he’s my kindred spirit. I found you, I’m here with you – but—I could feel his pain.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t want to think about it. He’s allowed to be selfish, even for this once.  “Don’t you ever dare leave me again, Park Chanyeol,” he demands. “Stay,” Kyungsoo says, this time quieter, gentler. “Stay with me.”

“I promise,” Chanyeol says, when Kyungsoo breaks down and asks him to stay. He cries, not because he wants to, but because he needs to. Chanyeol’s hands, which have been tightly holding Kyungsoo’s own, begin to travel northwards to cup his face, and only then does Kyungsoo realize how ridiculously long Chanyeol’s fingers are, how graceful his movements, when he needs to be. The pads of his fingers trace the shell of Kyungsoo’s ears, moving lower down his neck until his thumb reaches Kyungsoo’s collarbone, while the others stretch out to rest at his pulse point. Kyungsoo hisses when the cold metal of Chanyeol’s ring makes contact with his cheek, flinching slightly. “Breathe slowly,” Chanyeol says. “Breathe calmly.”

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo says, between each deep breath that he takes.

Chanyeol purses his lips, frowning. “For what?”

“For any pain I’ve caused you,” Kyungsoo replies. “For the things I’ve done—while you were away.”

“You’ve never caused me pain. If anything, I was the one who caused you pain. I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have said the things I’ve said – I’m sorry too, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo grasps Chanyeol’s hands and stares up at him sharply. “Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo warns him.

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol retorts, looking up at him through his eyelashes, and Kyungsoo effectively forgets what he has wanted to say. Chanyeol pulls away; then, he tells Kyungsoo, “This is just some twisted test the universe has thrown at us. I don’t believe for one second that we’ve failed. Even if we did, we could always start again. So let’s start again, Kyungsoo.”

Something snaps inside of Kyungsoo, something that feels like guilt, and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Chanyeol, would you hate me if I tell you that the other Chanyeol and I, we—” Kyungsoo begins again, but couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Chanyeol holds his hand tighter, brushing the top of his knuckles with a soothing gesture, as if willing him to go on. “The night before you came back, before he left—we had planned to find a ring for him. So that he could get married to me. So that we could get married – again,” Kyungsoo says, before he closes his eyes, teardrops falling on their clasped hands. “I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry, Chanyeol.”

The look in Chanyeol’s eyes is unreadable, but his words are kind. “Please, Kyungsoo. Don’t be.”

“I love you,” Kyungsoo says, in the end, because it’s the truth – the only truth that matters.

“I know,” Chanyeol nods, and the knot in Kyungsoo’s throat constricts, the ache in his heart tightens.

“If you could,” Kyungsoo says, “—would you marry me again?”

“In a thousand lifetimes, a thousand universes, I would find you and marry you, over and over again. If I could, I would, Kyungsoo. I love you.”

“Then, would you marry me now, Chanyeol?”

“I would,” Chanyeol replies, without any hesitation, before pulling Kyungsoo for a kiss.

And Chanyeol kisses Kyungsoo like he has never been kissed, as if Kyungsoo is his source of air, his sustenance, his lifeline. He kisses Kyungsoo like a thirsty traveller lost in the desert, finding water for the first time. He kisses Kyungsoo like this is all he has left to give, as if this would right the wrongs he has done, to make up for all the time he has lost living without Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol’s gangly limbs; his long arms are made to bracket Kyungsoo into his embrace like a pair of angel wings. His chin rests on Kyungsoo’s shoulder as he buries his face into the crook of Chanyeol’s neck, before Chanyeol mumbles a litany of words that sounds vaguely familiar, as if he has heard it somewhere else before, as if they have been part of Kyungsoo once.

"Lord, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand,” he murmurs, warm breath at Kyungsoo’s ear, spreading goosebumps all over Kyungsoo’s skin.

“A prayer,” Kyungsoo says, surprised, when he realizes this.

“When I couldn’t find you, I nearly gave up. I thought of ending it all, ending my life, because I couldn’t see my way out. I couldn’t live without you, in a world where you don’t exist. And I—,” Chanyeol pauses, swallowing heavily, tears brimming in his eyes, “—I was so ashamed of myself when I came to my senses. So I ran. I ran and ran, away from that wretched bedroom, that flat, until I reached the church where we got married. I still have our wedding ring, and I prayed so hard that I would be able to return, to you, back in your arms. I was so cold, I thought I was going to die – and when I woke up, you were there.”

“It worked,” Kyungsoo whispers against Chanyeol’s neck.

He could feel Chanyeol nodding. He could _hear_ Chanyeol smiling. Kyungsoo’s hands reach up to cradle Chanyeol’s head, running his fingers through the soft strands of hair. “Do you think it’ll work for me?”

Chanyeol shrugs and sniffles before pulling away from Kyungsoo, his fingers firmly flexed at Kyungsoo’s shoulders. Kyungsoo doesn’t dare look at Chanyeol now, because he is afraid that his eyes would betray his newfound composure, but when Chanyeol’s knuckle grazes his cheek and along his jaw, Kyungsoo shudders.

“To be loved as to love, with all my heart,” Chanyeol ends the heartfelt prayer, looking at Kyungsoo through his gentle lashes. “With all my heart,” he repeats, before tightening his hold at Kyungsoo’s waist, his other arm around Kyungsoo’s nape.

It all has come down to this.

When they first met, Kyungsoo has liked to think that they’ve been running away from each other, Kyungsoo more so than Chanyeol, but they have been running in circles. In the end they were back at square one; they were bound to bump into each other again whether they wanted to or not. Kyungsoo has liked to think that Chanyeol has been the one who was searching for someone to hold on to.

Kyungsoo has been terribly wrong.

In the end, Kyungsoo is the one who couldn’t live without Chanyeol, even if he wasn’t the one who was pulled away from this universe. He knows that Chanyeol would still be able to smile, would have some semblance of sanity, and if Kyungsoo had been in Chanyeol’s shoes – to have been thrown into a world where Chanyeol doesn’t exist, after having experienced this wonderful life having Chanyeol by his side – Kyungsoo doesn’t know how he would react, how he would survive all that. Even now, even after Kyungsoo has found Chanyeol, even after his wounds are healed, Kyungsoo knows he would be scarred for life. Chanyeol could see those invisible scars, because he sees through his heart as well as he sees through his eyes. It was him who first asked to be forgiven, when Kyungsoo thought that it was him who first wronged Chanyeol, for being unfaithful, for falling in love with the other Chanyeol— but now none of it really matters.

Kyungsoo takes his Chanyeol’s calloused hands and presses them to his heart, where it is beating. Chanyeol reciprocates the action, and it is eerie how Chanyeol’s heartbeats coincide with Kyungsoo’s underneath his palm. Kyungsoo touches Chanyeol’s eyes, nose, lips – he touches him everywhere, and when his hands aren’t enough, Kyungsoo uses his lips.

Even as he enters Chanyeol for the first time, since what seems like forever, it doesn’t feel like fucking anymore— it doesn’t even feel like making love. It’s inexplicable. It’s a need— and he doesn’t even realize how much he misses the real Chanyeol – his Chanyeol, writhing beneath him, calling out his name; desperate. He sees the hurt, the pain, the agony in Chanyeol’s eyes, his soul. He enters Chanyeol again and again, and he thinks, fuck the universe, _Chanyeol is mine, and you will never take him away from me,_ _never again_ , even if the universe were to collapse around them, at this moment, Kyungsoo doesn’t give a damn.

Afterwards, after everything ends, Do Kyungsoo whispers prayers in Park Chanyeol’s skin, sinks the words into his bones, seeping through his blood, soaking it to the core. He prays and prays, praying that they would survive the pain, praying they would survive anything that the universe throws at them.

\--

Kyungsoo will always be faithful to Chanyeol. In retrospect, it’s strange that it has come down to this, given how he has never had any interest in having romantic or sexual relationships with anyone, ever. This anomalous event that has occurred to them— it only makes Kyungsoo love Chanyeol more. They are independent of each other, and life goes on as usual. Even while Chanyeol is away, travelling to different countries because of work – or when it is Kyungsoo’s turn to be away from home, because of the excavation projects he is involved with – he knows that Chanyeol is here, in this universe, never away from him. Kyungsoo doesn’t have to worry, although sometimes he wonders if one of these days the universe would play another trick on them, just to fuck them up in the arse again.

He used to think that he was disinterested in social interactions, when there were other things that can occupy his mind. Working on historical sites was his escape. But he met Jongin and Baekhyun and Jongdae, being thrown out into the real world, and he was quick to judge that it wouldn’t change anything. He's still Do Kyungsoo, the quiet little guy who would love to evade talking to people as much as he could. The exception to the rule comes, of course, when Chanyeol enters the picture and messes everything up.

Park Chanyeol, his best friend, his lover, his husband, his soulmate.

Park Chanyeol, the only person in the world who could watch porn films with him and could laugh at how bad they are. Kyungsoo has wondered why people get so hung up and/or excited about pornography. It doesn't affect him at all, except for satisfying his curiosity for the female anatomy -- he could appreciate the aesthetics of it sometimes (if it was done beautifully and not just a gratuitous scene without any real semblance of a plot), but ninety-six percent of the porn he’d seen were crap anyways.

Chanyeol has asked him once if he really is that cold and clinical. He wonders why Chanyeol even asked, because the answer is so blatantly an obvious yes.

Park Chanyeol is _still_ the exception to the rule – and even now, Kyungsoo admires him from afar, discreetly. He’s curious at how Chanyeol could still persevere, could still smile, when he’s hiding all the burden and sadness, that brief gap in his life where everything went wrong and unsalvageable. Kyungsoo could tell that Chanyeol still thinks about that event sometimes, when he’s fiddling with his wedding ring on his finger.  

It’s been more than a year now. The memories of _loss_ and the feeling of _mourning_ have never left them, not entirely, even if they’re still together; still inseparable. Then, one night, Chanyeol creeps up into the kitchen while Kyungsoo is making dinner, silently pulling him away from the sink and wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo.

“I feel him,” Chanyeol says.

“Who?”

“The other Chanyeol. And—the other Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo looks up sharply. He thought that it’s just some inkling; niggling at the back of his neck, a strange feeling in his gut that has been growing for days, but he couldn’t tell anyone. He searches for confirmation in Chanyeol’s eyes, and realizes that this is real.

“I feel it too, Chanyeol. He’s found _him._ ”

Chanyeol nods, and presses his forehead against Kyungsoo, their noses nuzzled together, as their comprehension fully sinks in. “He’s not alone anymore. He’s found you, or a version of you. He’s managed to do what I wasn’t able to do. And I’m so happy, so, so _happy._ ”

Kyungsoo tiptoes and kisses Chanyeol lightly on the lips. “I’m happy too—for them. For _us,_ ” he tells Chanyeol.

“For us,” Chanyeol kisses him back.

\--

Christmas comes along, and Kyungsoo is glad to have Chanyeol to share it with him.

“Mulled wine and hot chocolate and Ferris wheels and rides!” Chanyeol exclaims, as Kyungsoo stares at the display of multicoloured lights, his ears trying to decipher which Christmas carol came from which direction of the Christmas Fair, his nose trying to pick out the best scent of mulled wine from various different stalls. He casts a glance at Chanyeol, who already has his hands full, with a chocolate covered apple in one hand and hot chocolate in another, and Kyungsoo thinks, _I love you._

The screams of the people on the rides above them brings Kyungsoo back from his reverie, and again his gaze falls upon Chanyeol, whom despite munching away at his apple with such childlike innocence, remains silent. Kyungsoo wonders what is going through his mind, when Chanyeol catches his eyes and their minds click.

“Let’s go on a ride,” Chanyeol says. “Let’s go on the Ferris wheel. I’d like to see the city lights from above.”

\--

There is something melancholic about two grown-ups being hoisted a hundred feet above ground, watching the busy city doing whatever business it has down below. People are too small, like ants. It is just the two of them in the metal carriage, and in front of them are a mother and his young son of about five. The boy is pointing excitedly at everything, but Kyungsoo notices that Chanyeol isn’t looking at them. It seems as if he is avoiding them entirely, pretending that they don’t exist. Behind them is a group of four – two pairs of boyfriends and girlfriends – a group of friends on a night out, obviously. They are already drunk, judging from the way they are butchering _‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’_ and the unabashed kissing noises they are making between intervals.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kyungsoo shouts (because it is really difficult to speak when he’s up in the air and there are drunkards singing three feet away from him), as they begin to descend slowly after the third round. Chanyeol manages a nod.

When they get off the wheel, Kyungsoo feels as though his legs have turned to jelly. It has been freezing cold up there, and he thinks it is getting colder by the time they got off. “Where do we go now?” he asks.

Chanyeol looks at him fondly, before saying, “Let’s go home.”

\--

Park Chanyeol and Do Kyungsoo will go off in separate directions after that Christmas – not because of a fight, or a divorce, but because of work. Chanyeol will move to Los Angeles, where he will work with famous music producers and artists, breaking records with one hit at a time, winning more awards than his fingers could count. Kyungsoo will stay in Seoul; where the winters are cold and the summers too warm, and when he thinks he will no longer be surprised by anything, Chanyeol ends up winning a major international music award which is broadcast live on TV, all the way from Los Angeles, and dedicates the award to him – a plain, old Do Kyungsoo, before confessing to the world how much Chanyeol loves him.

“I’ll be home soon—,” he says, and “—I love you, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol deadpans to the camera, right on Kyungsoo’s TV screen, and his heart will melt, sink to the ground, reminding him of how much he loves this man, his precious husband who is never too far away, even if they’re living on different continents.

He will send Kyungsoo a homemade VHS tape for his birthday all the way from Los Angeles, a throwback to Kyungsoo’s own gift. A surprised Kyungsoo will write back to Chanyeol, telling him that he’d like to come to LA one day. Chanyeol will reply with a verse from a Neruda sonnet, something that sounds like “ _I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul,”_ or “ _I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where; I love you simply, without problems or pride; I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving”,_ before telling Kyungsoo he is always welcome.

Park Chanyeol will grow old; Do Kyungsoo will grow older.

One winter, Kyungsoo will go to LA to see Chanyeol, because Christmas without Chanyeol sounds terribly lonely. It is going to be a whole lot warmer in LA, so he’ll stay for a while longer. Baekhyun, Sehun, Jongdae – all of their friends will never admit it, but Kyungsoo knows they feel that he has become more open, and yet more secretive all at the same time. No matter what has happened to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, they have surpassed it all. They still have their scars, but they don’t cut as deep as Kyungsoo would have first thought.

Chanyeol will even come back to Seoul with Kyungsoo, even if for just one week, even if just to visit Epsilon, the place where it all started. Chanyeol will play his guitar, and Kyungsoo will agree to sing – finally, in front of an audience, and Kyungsoo will forget that he is singing in front of thousands, instead, focusing on the fact that Chanyeol is next to him, concentrating on his guitar and Kyungsoo’s voice – and Kyungsoo will wonder why he hasn’t done this earlier, the exhilarating feeling consuming him, as Chanyeol’s voice blends in with his, in perfect harmony. He’ll sing an old pop song called _‘Boyfriend’_ , but in Chanyeol‘s hand it sounds different, unplugged, _raw_ – with only Chanyeol’s guitar and his voice, resonating throughout the room, the audience in complete silence. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol have conquered them in the palms of their hands –

“By the way, he will never be your boyfriend, folks,” Chanyeol will joke at the end of the performance, when the seemingly endless applause, the continuing uproar of the audience eventually dies down. “He’s my husband, so hands off.”

And Kyungsoo will never know what comes over him that night, before he kisses Chanyeol in front of everyone, drawing more applause in cheers from the crowd.

Park Chanyeol will grow old; but Do Kyungsoo will grow older.

\--

In the end, it will be Chanyeol who dies first, despite all the life he has sworn to live. Although he may have defied the universe, he is not larger than life, or larger than Death. When people remember him as Park Chanyeol, the famous singer-songwriter, Kyungsoo will remember him as his happiness delight, the man who crossed the universe and came back. Chanyeol is the man who loves him.

But most of all, Kyungsoo will remember Chanyeol as an awkward, tall and gangly young man on that trolley in the emergency room; the man who vomited in his car, the man who brought music into his life. He will remember Chanyeol as his friend, first and foremost. He will remember Chanyeol as his lover, his husband, his soulmate. A person Kyungsoo has learned to love, in all its shapes and forms.

Chanyeol will be the first to die, with his soul filled to the brim.

With his pain. With Kyungsoo’s pain.

And with love, so much love.

\--

Across the universe, Kyungsoo prays that they will meet again.

\--

.end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this fic comes from Christina Georgina Rossetti's poem, 'Echo'. If you're aware of the poem, you will know that it's about mourning and death, which is already a forewarning of this chapter. That said, I definitely didn't expect the fic to take this relatively dark turn, either, when I started writing it. Partly this is my fault for having abandoned the fic for more than a year -- and when I started to write again, I was (or am) in a relatively dark place, myself. 
> 
> Also, more Neruda madness, because I'm pretentious.


End file.
